


To Infinity

by sassy_pelican



Series: To Infinity [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:47:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22821247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_pelican/pseuds/sassy_pelican
Summary: Language, fluff, angst, sadness, humor, time jumps, canon typical warnings, a bit of everything. You may not read this story if you are under 18.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Steve Rogers & Reader
Series: To Infinity [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640578
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Language, fluff, angst, sadness, humor, time jumps, canon typical warnings, a bit of everything. You may not read this story if you are under 18.

_1943_

Although it’s June, you somehow still felt a chill. Maybe it was acceptance into the SSR as one of the few female agents they were willing to train. Maybe it was the thriller you chose to see earlier. Whatever it was, the chill down your spine wouldn’t let up. You pause when you hear a crash, a rather loud one at that. Usually just a raccoon or something you don’t pay it any mind.

“You just don’t know when to give up do you?” That, however, gives you reason to investigate. Another crash and you start to run, taking off your left shoe in the process.

“I could do this all day.” The small man, holding up a trashcan lid says, a lip bloody and wobbly knees topping it off.

“Leave him alone!”

“Or what, lady?” You look to the small man and shrug before turning to his assailant, who hasn’t noticed your missing shoe and hit him across the face with it.

“Ow! What the hell?” He glares at you, holding his cheek, lip bloody. _I didn’t think I hit him that hard._

“You both are gonna get it now.” He steps menacing toward you, your still covered foot coming in contact with his crotch as he does.

“Hey! Go pick on someone your own size.” The blonds face lights up in apparent relief as the taller and much broader brunet kicks the other out of the alley. You don’t have time to react before you are being squished in a back breaking hug.

As much as you can, you tap the man on the back, arms still restrained by him, and he lets go. “Sorry. Thank you, Miss …”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Right, thank you.” He turns to the smaller blond with an exasperated look. “Sometimes I think you like getting punched.”

“I – she – we had him on the ropes.” You want to laugh, because if you hadn’t stepped in when you did, the poor man would have been passed out for his friend to find, but you don’t.

The man in uniform looks at the ground and picks up a piece of paper. “How many times is this?” He continues to read, and although you feel as if you are intruding, you can’t bring yourself to leave. “Oh, you’re from Paramus now? You know it’s illegal to lie on your enlistment forms.” He pauses, only slightly. “And seriously, Jersey?”

The blond huffs but only looks up. “You get your orders?”

“The one-o-seventh. Sergeant James Barnes. Shipping out for England first thing tomorrow.” You finally get his name, still don’t know the blonds but it’s a start.

“I should be going.”

“Come on, man. My last night! Gotta get you cleaned up.”

“Why? Where are we going?”

“The future.”

This time, you can’t help but chuckle. “The Stark expo? Heard there’s a flying car.”

“Really?” He looks at you funny and you realize you are still holding your shoe.

“Oh! Right.” As you slip your shoe back on you miss the glance from James and the teasing look from the blond. “I still don’t know your name?”

“Steve Rogers. James here,” he pokes the other man and he lets out an exaggerated humph, “goes by Bucky.”

You raise your eyebrow. “Bucky?”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Long story.”

“You heading to the expo?”

“I might, why?”

“Just don’t wanna pretty dame like you walking home alone.”

“I can take care of myself just fine, James. Or was the loud oaf not enough proof?” You watch as his casual and flirtatious smile drops into a look of disbelief.

“Dammit! I though Stevie finally got a good punch in!” He looks at you, a different kind of gaze this time. “Think you can take my place as this one’s knight?”

“I can’t,” you look to the ground, not wanting to break Steve’s dream even more. “I leave in a couple days too.”

“Nurse?” Steve asks. You shake your head, but don’t offer him any more information.

“Come on Steve.” James – Bucky – looks back at you. “Care for an escort?”

“Don’t you have dates?”

Steve says no just as Bucky says yes, both of which cause the other to look at their feet. You laugh. “Hey! Girls usually don’t like guys who are tiny.”

“Not if they dress like that,” you gesture to his outfit, rumpled and far too big. “You can’t wear that on a date and expect a lady to want a second one.”

“What have I been tellin’ you Steve!” Bucky yells as the three of you begin to move. He mouths a silent thank you to you.

“Do I have to go?”

“Yes.” Bucky answers before you can interject and try to force the truth out of him, subtly.

“It’ll be fun.” You reassure. “Hey, if it goes south, I can always offer to beat her with my shoe.” You joke, both men laugh.

“I like you doll.”

“And you need new flirty tactics.” Turning your head, you see him staring at you open-mouthed. “If a girl falls for that, she is desperate.”

“What have _I_ been tellin’ you Buck!”

“So, where to boys?”

“We’re men!” They both yell as you sling your arm over each of their shoulders.

~

You were walking behind them, and subtly admiring the curve of James’ ass as they talk. Not much of their conversation interested you, after all, you weren’t looking for a loving lady to debauch tonight, nor a man for that matter. Steve, or as you have since learned, Stevie, wasn’t either.

“I don’t see what the problem is. You’re about to be the last eligible man in New York. You know, there’s three and a half million women here.”

“Well, I’d settle for just one.” Steve grumbles.

“Good thing I took care of that.” Bucky replies, you can almost hear his smirk as he waves over the two women he had lined up for their dates.

“Hey, Bucky!” One of the women yells as he continues to smile. You want to laugh but manage to hold your tongue.

“What did you tell her about me?” Steve asks.

“Only the good stuff.” This time you manage to walk away before you let out a laugh. To Bucky the good stuff is everything normal women would hate, or at least proceed cautiously.

Quietly, you go to get a hotdog, knowing it will be the last one for a while. Foil covered grease piled high with various disgusting toppings you slide up next to Steve who is standing behind the two women and Bucky. You aren’t able to catch him before he offers his date a bite of popcorn. Even you are a little surprised when Steve seems unimpressed with the now hovering car.

“Holy cow.” Bucky mutters, and while you can’t see his face fully, you can guess there is a look that little kids so often wear: sheer awe. That is soon replaced with a grimace, and one of your own as the car crashing back down.

When you look to your side, Steve is walking away, heading to what you can only assume is an enlistment office. “Hey, Steve, what do you say we treat these girls …” As Bucky turns around and only catches you with your mouth now stuffed full of the hotdog his smile drops. _Wow, thanks James. I know this isn’t the most attractive look but piss off buddy._

Stuffing the rest of it, just under half you believe, into your mouth and trying desperately not to let any fall out of your mouth, you silently make your way in the direction of the enlistment office. You’re almost positive you can feel Bucky following you, alone.

A light tap on your shoulder as you pause close to the entrance stuns you slightly. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N?” A rather tall and buff man asks, an envelope in his hand.

“Yes?”

“This is for you.” He doesn’t stick around when he gives it to you, meaning it must be something other than bad news. The officers delivering bad news always stay.

_‘Hello Miss Y/L/N, I am writing to inform you that you are to be my new apprentice. My name is Margaret Carter, but in time I hope you will call me Peggy. I had requested that any female agents be sent my way. Surprisingly, my request was granted. As an SSR agent myself, I hope to help you navigate the waters that were designed for men as I myself have had to do. You and I will be going to Camp Leigh to help oversee a program I cannot disclose within this letter. I look forward to meeting you Miss Y/L/N._

_Agent Margret Carter’_

You just held the letter in your hands, a smile on your face when a vaguely familiar voice cuts you from your stupor. “Ya man writing you?” _Ah, the blonde that I assumed was Bucky’s date._

“Not quite. Just got my assignment.”

“Oh! That’s great! Good luck.”

“Thank you.” _Dammit, she’s actually sweet._

“Hey, Sarge! Are we going dancing?” She yells. _Well, there goes my previous assessment._ Couldn’t she see he and Steve were having a moment, a meaningful conversation? Still you don’t move, letter still in hand.

“Yes, we are.” He yells, but you see him turn back to Steve. Just as you, and evidently the girls next to you, think he finally done and walking away he runs back up he turns back and salutes to Steve. The girls are quick to pull him away, but not before he sends you a pleading look, one you nod back to.

Seating yourself on a bench just outside the office, you reread the letter at least five times before it finally sinks in. You have your assignment, and it’s under another female agent too. The smile that hasn’t left your face brightens and you let out a squeal.

“You okay?” Steve asks, startling you, a smile on his face as well.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.”

~

You trail behind Peggy, she has insisted you call her that in private, as she eyes the soldiers who are eyeing her like a piece of meat. “Recruits, attention!” She yells, and even you have to say, you’re impressed. “I’m Agent Carter. I supervise all operations for this division.”

A man you identify as Gilmore Hodge via the clipboard the woman walking beside you is holding, interrupts her. _Bad move Hodge._ “What’s with the accent, Queen Victoria? Though I was signing up for the U.S. Army.”

“What’s your name, soldier?”

“Gilmore Hodge, you Majesty.” He mocks, and as you look up and down the line you spot Steve. _Steve!_

“Step forward, Hodge.” He does so, albeit with a slight confused look on his face.

“Put your right foot forward.” Peggy continues.

“Mmm … We gonna wrestle? Cause I got a few moves I know you’ll like.” You want to tell him off, but know you can’t, and you also know she has this handled. Unsurprisingly, she clocks him in the face, hard enough that he crumbles to the ground.

“Agent Carter.” Colonel Phillips says, eyeing the man on the ground, and you, suppressing a smile.

“Colonel Phillips.” She replies, straightening out her jacket.

“I see you’re breaking the candidates. That’s good!” He looks to Hodge. “Get your ass up out of that dirt and stand in that line at attention ‘til somebody comes and tells you what to do.”

Hurriedly, and with far more respect than he had for Peggy, he scrambles to his feet and into the line. “Yes, sir.”

You catch a glance at Peggy and roll your eyes, as subtly as possible and she sends you a small smile. “General Patton has said that wars are fought with weapons, but they are won by men.” You silently add women, but don’t count on that being added into the speech any time soon. “We are going to win this war because we have the men …” He pauses, only slightly when he spots Steve. “And because they’re gonna get better. Much better. The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort made up of the best minds in the free world. Our goal is to create the best army in history. But every army starts with one man. At the end of this week we will choose that man. He will be first in a new breed of super-soldiers. And they, will personally escort Adolf Hitler to the gates of Hell.”

~

As much as you hate to agree with Bucky, Steve really wasn’t cut out for this. He had the heart, but as you observed him, day after day, he didn’t have the body. Of course, it was much like you heard as you trained beside them, Peggy’s watchful eye on you and Steve. Neither one of you had said anything after finding out about the other.

Although the conversation hadn’t taken place, you could tell, in those first initial glances, that Steve couldn’t help but assume the army would rather have a woman than him. And as much as you had grown to care for him, those looks stung. But after you’d seen the glances he gave to Peggy, you decided not to take it personal.

_“Rogers! Get that rifle out of the mud! You too Y/L/N!” Sergeant Duffy, or Dummy as you like to call him, yells._ Yeah well, I would if I could Sarge, but you see some bastard whose masculinity has been threatened just kicked barbed wire in Steve and I’s faces, _you think to yourself, wishing with everything in you that you could say it out loud._ _Sighing you look at Steve and try to wrap your hand around a smooth part. He manages to get through just fine, however you can’t quite go it all at once. Just as you were about to say ‘to hell with it’ and stand up, barbs and all, it is picked up enough for you to crawl through._

_“You did it for me.” Steve says._

_“Thanks Rogers.”_

_“Pick up the pace, ladies! Let’s go! Double time! Come on! Faster! Faster! Move! Move!” Sergeant Duffy yells, thankfully, you are able to watch this one from the comfort of the vehicle with Peggy. “Squad, halt! That flag means we’re only at the halfway point. First man to bring it to me gets a ride back with Agent Carter and Y/L/N. Move, move!” You can swear he mutters something obnoxiously sexist under his breath, and something even worse directed towards you._

_Everyone is yelling as Steve is still analyzing the challenge. “If that all you got, this army’s in trouble!” Duffy yells. It takes everything in you not to yell back. “Get up there, Hodge! Come on! Get up there! Nobody’s got that flag in seventeen years! Now fall back in line! Come on, fall in! Let’s go! Get back into formation! Rogers! I said fall in!” You watch, along with Peggy, as Steve ignores Sergeant Dummy and eyes the pole. He bends over and pulls out the pin. No one says a thing as it falls, the thud cutting the silence, and leaving the soldiers with open mouths._

_“Thank you, sir.” Steve says as he hands the flag to a gaping Duffy. As he climbs into the car next to you, both of you smile._

_“Faster, ladies! Come on. My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul. Move it!” Peggy yells. You want to give her a vulgar gesture, one ladies aren’t meant to know about, but refrain as she is your S.O. and your arms are burning too much. However, you are fairing better than Steve at the moment._

_“Come on, girls.” Peggy mocks. You want nothing more than to wipe the smile off her face and so push harder, despite the protest in your muscles._

_You don’t register the thud until the Colonel’s voice is yelling. “Grenade!”_

_Steve beats you and Peggy to it, both of you scrambling to lay on it. Even as his small and frail body is laying on the object, you see it, the strength. “Get away! Get back!” Steve yells as everyone waits for nothing. You spot the doctor eyeing Phillips._

_“Is this a test?” Steve asks as he sits up, the dummy grenade still sitting where it was thrown._

_As you begin to get back into formation you swear you hear the Colonel say, “He’s still skinny.”_

~

That night a knock sounds on your door. Peggy stands from her seated position as Doctor Erskine enters. “Ladies.”

“Doctor.” You both greet.

“I have something to ask.” He sits on a vacant bed and stares at the floor for a while. “This is a lot to ask, but …” He looks up at us. “I was wondering if either one of you would be willing to be injected before Rogers. You wouldn’t get the full experience, no radiation, but I am curious if the female system could handle it.”

“I’ll do it.” You say before thinking about it.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Good. Thank you, Agent Y/L/N,” he turns to Peggy, “you will be escorting both of them tomorrow?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Good.”

~

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Remove your shirt,” Doctor Erskine says, “I will be over there, the nurses know what to do.” You nod as you begin to unbutton your top.

As one approaches you with a needle you smile. “Penicillin?”

“Yes.” She eyes you. “How’d you know?”

“My mother was a nurse before she passed.” She smiles sadly this time as she pokes through your skin.

“You are being given exactly the same amount that Mister Rogers will be given later.” Another nurse explains.

“Sounds fine.” Although you say it, you are secretly glad that they aren’t deluding it; aren’t giving you less because you are a woman.

“We need to inject the major muscle groups.” You nod as various needles, far more than you care to count as shoved into your arms and sides simultaneously.

As you watch the blue liquid go leave the tube you keep waiting for something to feel different. It doesn’t. There’s a slight tingle, but nothing major. You don’t feel stronger, not really, and you most certainly don’t feel any bigger. “Is that it then?”

All the nurses are staring at you, open-mouthed as the doctor enters the room once again. You quickly pick up your shirt and begin to rebutton it. “Are you alight?”

“Fine.” You stare at him. “Was something … big, supposed to happen?” You ask him.

“No! No, nothing. Did you feel anything?”

“A slight tingle, but that’s gone.”

“Wonderful!” He eyes you a while. “You shouldn’t have any growth, as that is meant to be caused by the vita radiation. But if you do, please notify me. The effects should be finished within the next few hours. Although any negative ones would have presented themselves by now.”

~

You were sat in a corner, unnoticed by the many men looking on and wait for Steve, or as they would know him, the subject. As Peggy enters with Steve, everyone stops and stares at him. _Poor Steve._ He catches your eye and you nod to him, why you aren’t sure, but you do.

“Good morning.” Erskine greets, shaking Steve’s hand as a flash goes off. “Please, not now.” He looks to Steve again. “Are you ready?” Steve nods. “Good. Take off your shirt, your tie, and your hat.”

With cautious eyes you watch as Steve does what the doctor told him, and almost every rib is visible. Even as he climbs as in the machine, he looks too skinny. You don’t dare look at Peggy, you already know that she is thinking the same thing.

“Comfortable?” Erskine asks.

“It’s a little big.” Steve comments, and it takes a lot of restraint not to smile. “You save me any of that schnapps?”

“Not as much as I should have. Sorry. Next time. Mr. Stark, how are your levels?”

“Levels at one-hundred percent.” Steve seems to see him as you do, his already pale face getting impossibly whiter. _The man that invented a faulty hoer-car is going to experiment on my friend. Shit._ “We may dim half the lights in Brooklyn, by we are ready as we’ll ever be.”

“Good.” He turns to Peggy, sending me a side eye. “Agent Carter? Don’t you think you would be more comfortable in the booth?”

“Oh, yes. Of course. Sorry.” You know the comment is directed at you as well, but you don’t move. You aren’t in the direct vicinity of the rays, and you refuse to leave Steve alone.

“Good.” You can’t help but think he says that a lot as he takes the microphone, tapping it a bit. “Do you hear me? Is this on?” He says to the group gathered to watch this. “Ladies and gentlemen, today we take not another step towards annihilation, but the first step on the path to peace. We begin with a series of micro injections into the subject’s major muscle groups. The serum infusion will cause immediate cellular change. And then to simulate growth, the subject will the saturated with Vita-Rays.”

You watch as Steve is injected with penicillin and stifle a laugh as he winces. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“That was penicillin.” He turns to the others. “Serum infusion beginning in five, four, three, two, one.” You watch as the blue liquid disappears into Steve, much like it did you. “Now, Mr. Stark.”

Stark lowers the lever and the thing Steve is laying on moves into place. The pod now upright, closes Steve in. “Steve, can you hear me?” Erskine asks after knocking.

“It’s probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?” _Good lord Steve now is not the time for jokes._

“We will proceed.” Stark nods and starts to up the percentage.

“That’s ten percent. Twenty percent. Thirty. That’s forty percent.”

“Vital signs are normal.” A doctor comments.

“That’s fifty percent. Sixty. Seventy.” Stark is cut off by a scream. A loud painful scream from the tube. You swallow the lump in your throat.

“Steve!” Erskine yells.

“Shut it down!” Peggy yells from the balcony before you can say anything.

“Steven!” Erskine yells as he knocks on the pod.

“Shut it down!” Peggy yells louder this time,

“Kill the reactor, Mr. Stark! Turn it off! Kill it! Kill the reactor!” Doctor Erskine shouts.

“No! Don’t! I can do this!” Steve yells from inside. _He’s alive!_ That though should give you comfort but after seeing him in that alley, alive doesn’t mean unhurt with Steve.

“Eighty. Ninety. That one-hundred percent.” Everything overloads. The reactor shuts itself off. No one moves for bit.

“Mr. Stark?” He opens the pod and the Steve that is strapped in, isn’t your Steve.

“Steven. Steven.” He stumbles out, held up by Stark and Erskine.

“I did it.” You nod, although no one sees you.

“Yeah, yeah. I think we did it.”

“We actually did it.” Starks sounds surprised.

As one of the nurses starts to hand him a shirt, Peggy reaches out, and just as she touches him, pull away. Almost as if she didn’t realize what she was doing. _Get it Peg._ “How do you feel?” She asks.

“Taller.” He replies, looking around.

“You look taller.”

You don’t pay attention to the conversation between the men, you only focus on Steve. He doesn’t need you or Bucky anymore. Not physically. You may not have known him long, but you’ve gotten attached to the little scrawny kid that needed you. This man, he doesn’t.

Your legs don’t give out as a bomb goes off. You watch as a man, who you don’t know, uses the chaos to steal the last vial, Peggy hot on his heels. You run after her and feel helpless as she shoots at the car. You want to clap as she shoots the driver, causing the car to crash. The man manages to commandeer a taxi, Peggy still shooting.

He ducks, accelerating towards the two of you. You, even with the serum, have enough sense to jump out of the way as he gets closer. Peggy, she doesn’t. Maybe it’s your lack of weapon, or your still muddled brain, but you can’t seem to get into gear, not like you should. Besides, the public might not be too keen on a female super-soldier. Out of nowhere, Steve shoves Peggy out of the way.

“I had him!” She chastises.

“Sorry!” He yells, already chasing after the car. You laugh as he crashes through a window before continuing.

“You’ve gotta teach me how to do that.” You mutter to Peggy.

~

You had seen some of Steve’s ‘accomplishments’ from his USO tour, and you are embarrassed for him. However, when Peggy tells you she is planning a trip to see him, off the books, you tell her you are going. She smiles.

“Have a thing for Steve?” She asks.

“Hardly!” You laugh, thinking of that first day. “Not like you think.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Only if you’re lookin’ Peggy. And let’s face it, no one here is.”

“How did you meet him anyway. I never asked.”

“Saved his ass in an alley.” You smile at the memory.

“He mentioned a few times he had gotten beaten to a pulp.” She looks at you. “What did you do?”

“Poor Steve was getting his ass beat by some huge guy. He was even using a metal trashcan lid as shield,” you stare at the poster of him, “guess that doesn’t change.”

“Guess not.”

“Anyway, I ran up when I heard the crashes and beat the man with my shoe.”

“Always a classic.”

The two of you approach the man in question, hunched over something in his lap. You glance at it, a monkey. _Steve._ “Hello, Steve.” Peggy greets.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” She continues to look at him.

“What are you doin’ here?” His eyes flit between the both of us, but I see the concern for Peggy there.

“Officially I’m – we’re – not here at all. That was quite the performance.”

“Yeah. Uh … I had to improvise a little bit. Crowds I’m used to are usually more uh … twelve.” You smile down at him sadly before plopping yourself next to him.

“I understand you’re “America’s New Hope”?”

“Bond sales take a ten percent bump in every state I visit.”

“Is that Senator Brandt I hear?” Peggy asks, and even you have to admit this isn’t Steve.

“At least he’s got me doin’ this. Philips would have had me stuck in a lab.” He says, dejected. You place your hand on his shoulder, trying in vain to comfort him.

“And these are your only options? A lab rat or a dancing monkey?” You eye the drawing, your heart sinking at the idea of Steve stuck in this. “You were meant for more than this, you know.” Peggy tells him, but when he hesitates, she looks at him. “What?”

“You know for the longest time I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines. Serving my country. I finally get everything I wanted and I’m wearing tights.” He sighs. The three of you turn when an ambulance arrives, wounded soldiers in tow. “They look like they’ve been through hell.”

“These men more than most. Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano. Two hundred men went up against him and less than fifty returned. Your audience contained what was left of the one-o-seventh. The rest were killed or captured.”

Both Steve and you pale and look to each other. “Bucky.” You gasp.

“The one-o-seventh?”

“What?” Peggy looks between our both fallen face.

“Come on!” Steve yells as he leads the two of us to a tent. “Colonel Philips.” Steve announces.

“Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man with A Plan. And what is your plan today?” You want nothing more than to lay him out but know you can’t.

“I need the casualty list from Azzano.”

“You don’t give me orders, son.” He mocks. You are boiling now, the lack of decent and basic respect from the man rubbing you in every bad way.

“I just need one name. Sergeant James Barnes from the hundred and seventh.”

Philips points at Peggy. “You and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy.” He doesn’t add anything.

“Please tell me if he’s alive, sir. B-A-R …”

“I can spell.” He glares at Steve. “I have signed more of those condolence letters today than I would care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry.”

The news shocks you. You didn’t know Bucky long, not even long enough to call him a friend really, but enough to know that you wanted to know more. You saw the man he was with Steve, with the girls, and was good. You don’t hear much of their conversation, still absorbing the news.

“Yes, sir. I do.” Steve says You glance at the map he is staring at and see the marker indicating the men.

“If you have something to say, right now is the perfect time to keep it to yourself.” Philips says to Peggy and you bristle. So far, everyone has ignored your presence and you would like to keep it that way.

You and Peggy follow Steve and find him packing and changing into slightly more appropriate attire. “What do you plan to do? Walk to Austria?” She asks.

“Yes.”

“If that’s what it takes.” Steve says sending a glare your way, you glare back.

“You heard the Colonel; your friend is most likely dead.”

“You don’t know that.” Steve grumbles.

“Even do, he’s devising a strategy. If he detects …”

“By the time he’s done that, it could be too late!” Steve approaches the jeep. “You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?” Suddenly, you feel as if you are intruding.

“Every word.”

“Then you gotta let me go.”

“I’m going with him Peggy.”

“Like hell you are!” Steve barks.

“Try and stop me Rogers.”

“I could.”

“No, I don’t think you could.” You respond, Peggy glaring at both of you, but nodding. Steve’s eyes widen at the realization.

“You were …”

“Yes.” You pause, debating. “Bucky asked me to be the new him, I intend to do that to the letter. I intend to do the same for him as well. Even if it means walking into hell with you just to beat you both to hell again.”

Steve nods throwing the bags around, making more room for you. Finally, Peggy really looks at you two. “I can do more than let you go.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Language, fluff, angst, sadness, humor, time jumps, 18+, nsfw, canon typical warnings, a bit of everything. You may not read this story if you are under 18

_1943_

“The HYDRA camp is in Krausberg, tucked between these two mountain ranges. It’s a factory of some kind.”

“We should be able to drop right on their doorstep.” Howard Stark, who you soon figured out after strapping yourself in, was the pilot, says.

“Just get me,” you glare at Steve, “ _us_ , as close as you can.” He tells whoever listens. “You know, you two are gonna be in a lot of trouble back at the lab.”

“And you two won’t?” Peggy counters.

“Where I’m goin’,” you silently add yourself seeing as Steve won’t, “if anybody yells at me, I can just shoot ‘em.”

“They will undoubtedly shoot back.” The gun at your back Peggy loaned you feels heavy on your back, the other, smaller ones, stashed across your person even more so. No doubt you would be doing some shooting of your own.

“Well, let’s hope it’s good for somethin’.” Steve knocks on his shield. _Not enough, Steve, not enough._

“Agent Carter, if we’re not in too much of a hurry I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late-night fondue.” You look between Peggy and Steve, the awkward looks almost enough to make you laugh, but you don’t current Steve when you see where his mind goes.

“So, are you two …? Do you …? Fondue?”

“This is your transporter. Activate it when you’re ready and the signal will lean is straight to you.”

“Are you sure this things works?” Steve asks.

“It’s been tested more than you, pal.” Howard pauses. “And you too sweet-cheeks.”

“Piss off Howard.” You quip, the man only chuckles. The shots ring in your ear as they hit the plane. Steve jumps up, racing to the open door. You follow him.

“Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in!” Peggy yells, neither of you really listen.

“As soon as I’m free, you turn this thing around and get the hell outta here!” Steve yells. You turn to Peggy and roll your eyes.

“Do that after I’m clear.” She completely ignores you.

“You can’t give me orders!”

“The hell I can’t! I’m a Captain!” He yells before looking at her one last time and jumping. You cast a look at her as well.

“Peggy.” She turns to you, tears in her eyes. “We’ll be okay. Steve will be okay.” You don’t say anything more before you jump after him. When you land, near enough to Steve than he glares at you laugh, despite the dire situation.

“I was hopin’ you’d change your mind.” He mutters.

“Not a chance in hell.”

~

The two of you manage to get into the back of truck, taking the men out inside. You don’t help him much, he doesn’t need it, even when you get to the factory. However, after he takes one of the blue cartridges, you decided to do so as well. _Two is better than one, right?_

You manage to take a guard or two as Steve takes out the rest guarding the prisoners. “Who are you supposed to be?” A man asks from below Steve. You huff and watch him.

“I’m … Captain America.”

“We’re,” you glare at Steve again, “the people saving your asses.”

“I beg your pardon?” Another man asks.

“You don’t wanna know.”

After figuring out the way down to the gates, which took far longer than both or Steve care to admit, you let everyone out. You ignore the men as they banter, with ill humor or real malice you don’t care, all you notice is no Bucky. “Is there anybody else? I’m looking for a Sergeant James Barnes.” Steve asks.

“There’s an isolation ward in the factory, but no one’s ever come back from it.”

“All right. The tree line is northwest, eighty yards past the gate. Get out fast and give ‘em hell. I’ll meet,” you kick him in the back of his leg, a grunt leaving his lips, “we’ll, meet you guys in the clearing with anyone else _we_ find.”

“Wait! You know what you’re doin’?” Yet another man asks, looking from you to Steve.

“Yeah. I’ve knocked out Adolf Hitler over two hundred times.” Steve jokes, but you somehow think he is serious.

“Steve!” You turn to the men still staring at the oddity of you and Steve. “We saved you guys from uncertain death, didn’t we? At least while caged.”

“Fair point lady.”

You and Steve follow the directions to the isolation ward, spotting someone with blueprints, but you hear the voice when he does and hesitate.

“Sergeant. 32557 …”

You both rush to the source of the sound. The sight of Bucky strapped down makes you freeze. Steve continues forward, snapping the straps. “Oh, my god.” Steve whispers. Bucky continues to mumble.

“Is that …”

“It’s me. It’s Steve.”

“Steve?”

“Come on.”

“Steve.”

“I thought you were dead.” Steve says he gets Bucky up.

“I thought you were smaller.” Bucky says, looking at him.

“Come one.” Steve says again.

“What happened to you?” He asks.

“I joined the army.” You scoff but move to help Bucky who shakes his head before looking at you again.

“What the hell?”

“I told you I wasn’t a nurse.”

He looks back to Steve. “Did it hurt?”

“A little.” You want to laugh, but don’t, the worry on Bucky’s face enough to quell the urge.

“Is it permanent?” He asks.

“So far.” Steve says. You glare at him from behind.

“Yes, it’s permanent.”

~

The three of you run as the building starts to explode behind you. None of you know where to go or what to do, not exactly anyway. You just know that all of you need to get the hell off there as soon as possible.

“Captain America! How exciting! I’m a great fan of your films.” A strange man says. You know _of_ him, but in person he is much worse. He looks Steve up and down, assessing the threat. “So, Dr. Erskine managed it after all. Not exactly an improvement, but still impressive.” Steve rears back, fist flying, hitting Schmidt hard.

The other man, the smaller one that you and Steve had seen earlier stares the action. You notice Bucky staring at him, his face sickly now, more so than it was. _So, this is the bastard that experimented on people._ It hits you like a freight train then, the reality of Bucky’s fear. This man experimented on Bucky, and he is his first successful subject. You turn back to the other man, still exchanging harsh words and punches with Steve.

You stare at the place on his neck that looks off, almost as if it isn’t fully attached to the muscle underneath it anymore. However, you still feel Bucky behind you, his fear pliable, not only for Steve and you, but for himself. His eyes never leave the man behind Schmidt, not once does he look away. You snap out of the daze you were in as when you hear the Doctor’s name.

“No matter what lies Erskine told you, you see I was his greatest success!” His hand raises, moving to his neck. Without thinking you step in front of Steve.

“Then why did you hide it?” You ask, only loud enough for the words to resonate. “Why are just now willing to take off your old face, the one you are reaching to peel off, if you were his greatest success?” The catwalk starts to move.

“You are the first to notice.” He says, a little uncertain at your presence, one he obviously hadn’t thought to count as a threat. He stares at you a moment, as if trying to calculate if you’re worthy of a response. Apparently not. He smiles at you, continuing to his neck and peeling off his face.

“You don’t have one of those do you?” Bucky asks, quietly. Even though you know the question was directed at Steve you silently tell him no, in your head, as well.

“You are deluded, Captain. You pretend to be a simple soldier, but in reality, you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind. Unlike you, I embrace it proudly. Without fear!”

“Then how come you’re running?” Steve yells as the two men disappear into the elevator, which is somehow still operational. He turns to you and Bucky. “Come on, let’s go. Up.”

The stairs are shaking, and even you and Steve are having trouble keeping your balance, Bucky is far worse off. Every time he falters, you manage to catch him, a few times in rather compromising ways. Although, now you can say, with one hundred percent certainty, that James Barnes has a wonderful ass.

Finally, on solid, or relatively solid ground, you look at the other side, the one you three need be on. The large beam the only way across. You don’t take an invitation, you just carefully, and as quickly as possible, race to the other side. Your feet merely tapping the metal as you block out your surroundings.

Bucky on other hand, isn’t so graceful. His balance is off, arms slightly flailing with each step, but he makes it, barely before the thing collapses beneath him. The two of you stare at Steve as you realize he somehow has to cross that fiery pit with anything but force of will.

“Gotta be a rope of something!” Bucky yells.

“Just go! Get out of here!” Steve shouts back.

“No! Not without you!” You stare at Steve hard as Bucky stares with you.

“I am not going to be the one to explain to Peggy that you died just because your dumbass super-soldier brain decided your body couldn’t make that jump! You did better than that getting in this hell hole! So, did I!”

Backing up, Steve runs. He runs hard until he runs out of something to run on and then he jumps. You and Bucky both jump back, giving him room to land. The explosion obstructs your view, and you can feel the panic rolling off Bucky, even as Steve falls onto the metal.

“Alright Soldier, get up and run.” You growl at Steve.

~

Over an hour into the long walk back to the SSR base, Bucky still refuses to acknowledge the fact that you accidentally spilled the secret that you have the serum running through veins too. The awkward silence between the two of you is deafening. “Why?”

You turn to him, his hands still poised his gun, ready. “Why what?”

“Why did you do it? Take the serum? Come get me? All of it.”

“I took it because Erskine asked. I took it because I had to spend time with Steve as a fellow recruit and had to endure the bias of him being small while he endured the prejudice of me being a woman. I took it because the person that did, they were the last line of defense between Steve and whatever it brought to him.”

“You did what I asked?” He looks at you, shocked.

“Yes. I said I couldn’t take your place protecting him, and I meant it. But that sure as hell doesn’t mean I couldn’t try. As for getting you, I wanted to.”

“What d’ya mean?”

“I haven’t known you long, and certainly not well, but that didn’t mean I never wanted to.” You look up at him, and swear you see a little wet in his eyes. “You made an impression James, and I’d like for it to be a bit more than just an impression.”

“I think I would too.”

~

You are walking next to Bucky when everyone in the camp starts to recognize Steve. A few shouts here, a few there and everyone is clamoring to get a peek at the man that saved the men all coming up behind him. You stare at the Colonel as Steve salutes him. “Some of these men need medical attention.”

You ignore the few other voices shouting orders, nurses racing out of tents, but you do notice the one that approaches Bucky. Maybe it’s a spark of jealousy, but you don’t like it. Steve, however, shocks you out of it. “I’d like to surrender myself for disciplinary action.”

“That won’t be necessary.” He says, as he turns to you however, he sneers. You suppose he’s waiting for you to do the same, but you don’t. “You on the other hand …”

“With all due respect, sir, I was following Captain’s orders.” You say it deadpan, even when you, Steve, and Peggy know it is an outright lie. Philips doesn’t seem to believe it but can’t find a trace of it on your face.

“You expect me to believe that, Y/L/N?”

“Yes, sir, I do.” He doesn’t say anything as he walks away, Peggy taking his place.

Bucky turns to you, mouthing her name in question. You nod. “You’re late.” She says to Steve, her face unwavering.

“Couldn’t call my ride.” Steve says, holding up the transporter.

“Should’ve given it to you.” She says, turning to you. You smile.

“Maybe.”

“Hey! Let’s hear it for Captain America.” Bucky yells, the cheering that follows echoes in your ears that night.

~

You watch the men, the ones that first greeted you at the HYDRA base chatting and drinking with Steve while sitting with Bucky, tidbits of their conversation filtering through the background noise of the bar. Steve saunters up, smiling.

“See? I told you. They’re all idiots.” Bucky quips.

“How about you? You ready to follow Captain American into the jaws of death?” Steve asks, even if both you and Bucky can see the sad smile behind his eyes as he does.

“Hell no. That little guy form Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight; I’m following him.” Bucky tells him. “But you’re keeping the outfit, right?”

“You know what? It’s kind of growing on me.”

Everyone in the bar notices as Peggy walks in, red dress catching the eye of every lustful man and envious woman. You on the other hand, in your pants from the raid and jacket that you stole from Peggy herself, are only smiling. “Captain.”

“Agent Carter.”

“Ma’am.” Bucky pops up, as if realizing he is now in the presence of a woman worthy of his flirting. _Damn you Barnes._

“Howard has some equipment for you to try. Tomorrow morning?”

“Sounds good.”

“I see your top squad is prepping for duty.” She eyes the table of other men, almost piss drunk by now.

“You don’t like music?” Bucky asks, trying to insert himself into the conversation. You know better, the two fools in front of you only have eyes for each other. Neither willing to act on it though.

“I do, actually. I might even, when all this is over, go dancing.” You want to roll your eyes as you see hers never leave Steve’s.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Bucky asks, still oblivious to the two budding love birds.

“The right partner.” She says softly. You almost choke on your drink, the beer warm now. “O-eight-hundred, Captain.” She looks back at Steve one last time before walking back to the exit.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be there.”

“I’m invisible. I’m … I’m turning into you. It’s like a horrible dream.” Bucky mutters, still reeling from the rejection.

“Don’t take it too hard. Maybe she’s got a friend.”

You can’t hold back your laugh this time. Bucky just stares at you, incredulous that you would take his demise so flippantly. “Hey, if the friend thing doesn’t work out you always have me.” You offer, only half kidding.

He looks you up and down. “Oh really?”

“Would that be so bad, James?” He doesn’t say anything, just continues to look at you.

“Care to dance, doll?”

“It’s Agent to you.” You quip, but you take his offered hand anyway. He pulls you onto the small dance floor, hand at your waist.

“I like the pants by the way.” He says, breath fanning your face. You can’t say the smell is pleasant, it smells like stale beer, but then again, so does yours.

“Thank you. I like yours as well.”

“Really? You like the uniform, do ya?”

“Don’t kid James.” You glare at him. “Let’s not pretend I already felt what was under those pants when you fell how many times back at the base.”

“Oh no, can’t forget that.” He looks at you, really looks at you as he spins the two of you around. “You’re different.”

“Well, I’ve spent a bit of time around men a lot like the idiots Steve picked for the team. It starts to rub off. Peggy also doesn’t help.”

He groans. “Do you have to bring her up?”

“Always,” you tease. “But really, was she the first woman to ever reject the self-proclaimed ladies-man James Barnes?”

“Yes, she was. Not counting you of course.” He mumbles, tightening his hold on me slightly.

“That is too good.”

“Hey now, don’t forget, you felt me up. You should know why I never get turned down.”

“Do you want me to hit you with my shoe?”

“Only if you kiss it better.” He says, voice dropping a little.

“Deal.”

~

It was decided that everyone would go to France first. The largest base was the target, and you knew as well as Steve that you couldn’t just fly in and bomb the place. It had to be on foot, or at least with land vehicles. The tank that Dugan, Monty, and Jones commandeered came in handy. 

Ever since the Commandos were formed in that bar, Bucky and you have grown closer. The shameless flirting, on both your parts, hasn’t and likely won’t stop. Niether of you nor Bucky seem to care. Sure, you grew close with the other guys too, Dugan more so than the others simply because he can throw insults just as bad as yours.

“Come on Lady Legs! You’re stragglin’!” Dugan yells from the front by Steve.

“Oh, come off it, Dum Dum!” You shout, a few expletives slipping out after another step into yet another small hole.

“Would you like me to carry you?” Bucky teases.

“Not you too!”

“Alright there, _Lady Legs,_ I will just continue to let ya fall.” You can hear the smile in his voice despite not turning to him. “You could at least let me catch you.”

“Oh no, I know what your kind of catching would entail and today is not the day you will be touching my ass.” You glare at him, still smiling, but putting every ounce of venom you can into your gaze.

“So, you plan on me touching your ass now do you?”

You grumble but refuse to beat the living hell out of him; you promised you’d kiss it better. Yet, as you fall again, he catches you, hands never once traveling where you know he wants them to.

Setting up camp isn’t much better. Your camping skills aren’t exactly up to par, and this is the first time you have faced this type of enemy. But under the tired, watchful, and no doubt judgmental gazes of the men, and Peggy, you refuse to give up.

“Just share mine.” She pipes up after your fruitless attempts to put it up.

“Fine.”

However, five hours later and not one-hour of sleep between them, you can’t do it anymore. The small space far too little for two people and you are much too nervous to sleep. You didn’t feel this anxious before raiding the base, but you also had a reason besides ‘the greater good’ and doing what’s right. Both good reasons, but that instinct you have that usually tells you to keep fighting, is not coming to life.

“Can’t sleep?” Bucky says from his perch on a low branch.

“What the hell are you doing up there Bucky?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” He pauses, sucking in a breath. “Never can before a battle.”

“I’m sorry.” You mean it too.

“So, how’s roomin’ with Peggy?”

“Far too cramped for my taste, but it beats sleeping out here in the cold.”

“Want me to show you how to pitch a tent?” He asks, and you can’t help it, you laugh.

“Only if it doesn’t involve your pants.”

“You little devil!” He jumps from his resting place and after a few steps, despite your enhancement, manages to tackle you to the ground.

“You left that wide open, and you know it!”

“I won’t say it.” He mutters, warm breath fanning your face, this time smelling marginally better. 

“Won’t say what?” You ask, almost teasing, but also genuinely curious.

“Just like how you are right now.” He says, looking right into your eyes.

Despite the steeling resolve you usually have you realize just what he means. He’s hovering over you, your arms pinned beside your head, and his knees resting in between your legs. Even with all your bravado, you blush.

“Is that a blush?” He asks, teasing but still not mocking.

“Maybe.”

“It looks good on you.”

“James?” You ask, his entire body lowering ever so slightly.

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to kiss me, or do I have to beat you with my shoe?”

“Well, you did promise to kiss it better.” He laughs, lips less than an inch from yours.

“Just kiss me.”

_1944_

The trek to Belgium wasn’t long but it was far colder than the one to France. Your late-night talks with Bucky have moved from outside by the fire to the warmth of one of your tents – with his help you figured out how to put it up. It wasn’t much warmer really, but the mentality of it helped a little. Oftentimes, you would find yourself waking up with him since it was much warmer. The man was like a walking furnace, and you yourself weren’t naturally cold, not like before the serum.

No one has said anything about the two of you sleeping curled up next to one another yet. No one has said anything like it in regard to Steve and Peggy doing the same either. You choose to think it’s because they don’t mind, not that they don’t care at all. Although, Dum Dum has never one to keep his mouth shut for long, thankfully, he hasn’t been the one to wake you and Bucky up yet.

This morning though, as you are practically laying atop Bucky, blankets covering most of you, but not enough to hide the fact that you are in your pajamas, do you realize just how all this looks. Legs tangled, hair mussed, arms thrown over each other in a haphazard way, and face far too close to be friendly.

“Rise and shine Buckaroo!” You shoot up as you hear the familiar yell and footsteps coming to the tent. Bucky does too. Wide eyed in panic, the two of you look around for anything to hide you in and find nothing.

“Oh shit.” You mutter, still mostly sitting in his lap.

Before you can even maneuver yourself into a far less sexual position the tent is open and Dugan is peering in, smile on his face and eyes holding far too much mischief. “You too Lady Legs.”

“I guess he knew.” Buck says, still holding your waist lightly.

“I guess so.”

“Come on you two! Steve and I have been up for an hour!” Peggy yells.

The two of you look at each other before laughing. The absurdity of the situation sinking in; only out here would this kind of shit would be acceptable. Anywhere else, and you would be labeled a harlot for life. “We’re coming!” You yell back.

“I’m sure you have.” The comment from Dugan sets your face aflame. It isn’t like you haven’t thought about having sex with Bucky, hell you’re sure he has thought about it too. You just weren’t quite sure how to broach the subject that behind all your bravado and suggestive talk, you were still a virgin.

“Timothy!” Peggy scolds as you and Bucky sheepishly exit the tent, a blanket around your shoulders.

“It’s okay Peg.” You mumble as you plop yourself down on the cold ground. “When do we set out?”

“In about an hour.” Steve informs everyone. You nod.

“Better get dressed then.” You don’t notice the glare Bucky sends Dugan as you walk away. Nor do you hear the hushed scolding he gives him. All you can focus on now is the fact that you are flushed, and not from embarrassment.

~

Your hot. Far too hot for being relatively exposed to the icy and snow-covered landscape to the next HYDRA base. Bucky hands are scalding as he holds your waist while you try hard not to squirm in his lap. His lips however feel like fire against yours. The mostly innocent kiss from only a few minutes before is long gone, replaced by a sloppy wet and all-consuming kiss that you swear you will feel for weeks.

Every swipe of his tongue against yours sends you further into your haze. He hasn’t kissed you like this in over a week. Not since Dugan’s comment that one morning. The long make-out sessions that were once stolen in the night have stopped. You still slept next to him, although he is far less cuddly and far more reserved. Tonight though, it seems as if his resolve to feign propriety has shattered.

His hands are almost cupping your ass as he starts to leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your neck. It is taking all your willpower not to start grinding down into him. But you don’t want to scare him, not when he has seemed so skittish lately. Still you can’t stop the quiet moan that escapes when he sucks that particular spot underneath your ear that always sends makes you lose your mind.

You can’t process what happened before you’re on your back, his arms next to your head and hips lightly pressed to your own. He doesn’t move for a moment, still trying to process the sudden urgency himself you guess. But as he starts to kiss back down your neck, onto your collarbone, leaving light love-bites along the way, you can no longer hold your hips in place. One swirl, one grind, one movement and he stops; he doesn’t move, but doesn’t continue anything either. 

“James?” He doesn’t say anything. “Bucky.”

“I’m sorry.” He makes to move off you, but you lock your legs around his hips.

“Why?”

“I shouldn’t – we shouldn’t – this isn’t.” He can’t seem to get the words out, but you know. You know what he means.

“Is this still about what Dugan said?” You ask, he practically growls after hearing his name. It takes you a moment, but you realize why. “Bucky, I don’t care.”

“I care though. I don’t want you to be treated like that. Like you’re a piece of meat.” He argues. You don’t budge.

“Is that why you wouldn’t touch me at all this week.”

“Don’t say it like that.” He whispers.

“Why? Because you don’t like it? Or is it because you do?” He sucks in a breath, trying desperately to move his hips away from yours, and his head falling into the hollow of your neck.

“Doll …”

“Bucky.” He shakes his head. “James, look at me.” Reluctantly he does. “I didn’t leave red faced because I was embarrassed because of what Dugan implied. I left red faced because I realized that I really wanted it to be true.”

“Y/N …” He tries. You shake your head this time.

“No. Bucky I don’t care about that. I don’t care what other people will say. I care about you James.”

“I don’t, truly. I don’t care about the general public either. I care about our friends, and what they will think.”

“This group, out here. They are it for me. They are my people Bucky. Everyone already thinks we are fucking,” his eyes go wide, “I’ve spent far too much time around you lot not to pick up a few things. No one cares. This is normal for them. Peggy and Steve were my biggest worry and they are in about the same boat as us. Although, from what she tells me, they’ve gotten a bit farther.”

“Stevie? Steve has gotten father sexually with his girl that I have with mine?” He pauses, disbelief written clearly on his face. “Wait, what the hell do you two girls talk about?”

You laugh at the horrified look on his face now. “A little bit of everything. Besides, we have to compare. Not that I need her for that.” You mumble the last part, but he catches it. Sitting the two of you up, he looks at you, waiting.

“What does that mean?” He asks, slowly grinding you down onto him. _I guess his hesitancy is gone now._ You huff.

“I may have seen him naked?” You mutter. “Not after the serum, but before.”

“Explain.” He growls, pressing you closer. And shit, you can feel him under you.

“Neither one of realized that the person showering in the barracks was each other. Peggy told me she was set to shower any time, so I thought it was her. Steve thought it was just another man. No big deal. At least until we both got out, towels loosely tied and screamed. We didn’t have a very good grip. Both of us might have seen everything.”

“So little Stevie got to see you naked before me?”

“If it makes you feel any better, he didn’t look quite as big as what I’m feeling between my legs right now.”

“It doesn’t.” He groans as you push down with your hips.

~

The following few nights were about the same. Heavy petting, a few stray hands and fingers, wet lips, battling tongues, and the ever-present grinding of hips. Still, he wouldn’t really touch you; not without something in between the two of you. You wanted him to, fuck did you want him to. He wouldn’t though.

Tonight though, you had different plans. Instead of the now almost ratty tent you and he usually used, you got to spend the night in a motel in the middle of nowhere. There was no way in hell you weren’t taking advantage of that. You gave Peggy the side eye, both of you confirming your plan to surprise and scare the boys. You just hoped that Peggy’s plan wouldn’t backfire for her, even here Steve was bound to be recognized.

Thankfully, the receptionist spoke English well enough for you to communicate. “How many rooms.” You don’t let Bucky speak, not before you at least.

“One.” You give the older woman a happy smile, even if she can’t see the mischief behind it. “Seems silly going on a honeymoon now doesn’t it? But we didn’t know if we’d get the chance again.” Bucky, thankfully, is too dumbstruck to say anything on the contrary.

“I understand.” You can tell she wants to say more but doesn’t quite know how to properly convey it in English. She eyes your hand, your left hand, noticing the lack of ring. You had that figured too. The ring your mother gave you before she died is around your neck, pretty enough to be considered a wedding ring too.

“It’s a little big, kept falling off. It was my mother’s; I didn’t want to lose it.” She nods, a sheen of tears over her eyes.

The walk to the room, one of her nicer one’s she said, is quiet. “Y/N,” Bucky starts as you slip the key into the lock, “I wasn’t aware we were married.”

“We aren’t.” You say simply, turning to face him as you back into the room. “But I sure as hell am not going to be sleeping alone after sleeping with you for so long.”

“But Steve and Peggy –”

“She is doing the same thing.”

“Oh god!” He looks at his face a paling a little. “Steve is gonna lose it.”

“Nah, he got pretty fresh with a few of his USO girls, this isn’t going to shock him too bad.” You reply.

“Alright, Steve and I need to talk about some things. Because apparently, there is a lot I don’t know about him.”

“Sorry,” You lean in close, already feeling the plan for tonight fall into place, “James.”

He sucks in a breath; his given name always did something to him. You figured that out from the nights spent in his lap, the sizeable package always growing a bit harder every time you said it. “Doll.” He warns.

“Not tonight.” You look at him, eyes heavy and voice lower than usual. “Tonight, is not for hesitation James. I want this.”

“But Y/N …”

“No. I want _this_ , James. I want you.”

You don’t dare add anything else; not the lingering thoughts of demise. You don’t tell him that the missions are truly starting to scare you, that you think every time it will be the last. It isn’t the bombing of the facilities that does it, no, it’s everything else. It’s the raiding of it beforehand to make sure all the hostiles are dead. It’s the clearing of the surrounding area to make sure there are no unnecessary casualties; something the higher-ups have chastised the Commandos for numerous times. You don’t dare tell Bucky that you fear dying a virgin because it would mean you never got to experience him fully.

He doesn’t reply, the storm in his eyes enough to tell you that something is wrong. “Why are you so against this Bucky? I know you’ve had sex before.”

“I have.” He mumbles, still not looking you in the eye.

“Then why?”

“Because this,” he gestures to you, “is new. Everything between us is new.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ve never …” He can’t, won’t, finish.

“You’ve never been with a virgin before, have you?”

“No, I haven’t.” He flops himself on the bed, looks up at the ceiling with a forlorn look. “I’ve always asked, made sure I wasn’t stepping over that line. I would do some, not enough though. More than I’ve done with you so far really. But anyone I’ve ever had sex with, they’ve never been virgins.”

“Why?” You ask, laying beside him. The question seemed innocent enough, it wasn’t though. Not really.

“I never wanted to take that from a woman. I always felt like they expected me to, like it wasn’t really what they wanted. I would do other things, but never that.” You don’t interrupt him, too scared to actually. You want to hear it, all of it. “I would give a girl her first real orgasm, I would teach her other things, how to … um …”

“Use her mouth?” You offer, knowing from various overheard conversations just what it meant and entailed. His face though is crimson.

“Yeah. I would use mine. I would use fingers.” He turns his head to look at you, almost seemingly expecting to see a look of disgust. He doesn’t. “The others, they were mostly widows. Women that wanted only one thing. Hell, they taught me a thing or two about pleasing a woman. The others, they were harder. They would always approach me, at least after the first.”

He stays quiet for a while, almost as if stuck in his head. “Bucky?”

“Sorry.” His hand latches onto yours. “The others were women who weren’t given a choice. Not ever, ‘specially their first time. I didn’t know about the first one until after. She said she wanted to see if it could be good. After that a number of girls, women, approached me. They all wanted the same thing: they wanted to have a good experience with a man. I don’t think I ever had any feeling for them other an admiration and a bit of pity.”

“James.” You squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry I pushed.”

“Don’t be. I needed to say it. I haven’t even told Steve, not when he was still small and now just doesn’t seem right. Hell, the little punk would have gone after the men and tried to beat them to hell. Wouldn’t have worked. That’s not to say I didn’t do a little ruffing up myself.”

“We don’t have –”

“I just, I don’t want you to regret it.” He takes your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I don’t want it to feel forced.”

“It won’t. I’m _giving_ this to you, you aren’t taking it from me.”

He kisses you with fervor now. You swear his face is slightly wet, but neither of you comment on it. It’s as if a weight has been lifted from him. Pulling away for a breath you stare him in the eye. A warm feeling bubbling up in your belly.

“I think I love you.” He mumbles into your hair as he holds you. You smile.

“I think I love you too.” It’s his turn to smile.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Language, fluff, angst, sadness, humor, time jumps, 18+, nsfw, canon typical warnings, a bit of everything. You may not read this story if you are under 18

_1944_

Peggy greeted you with a wide smile matching your own. The knowing look in her eye reflected yours, only making you smile wider. “How did Steve react?” You ask.

“Much like Bucky did.”

“So, he froze like a deer in headlights?”

“Absolutely.” She laughs. “Nothing better than making Captain America blush like a schoolgirl.”

“I can’t argue with that, much.” You look at her, the glow from last night still present, even if only slightly. “Although, making the ladies-man stumble over words like one is pretty great too.”

“I bet it is.”

~

The small reprieve didn’t last though. The way to Poland was already underfoot and even with your newfound happiness from Bucky, the war weighed heavy on you. You loved it, the sense of purpose, the feeling of protecting people, but you hated that everything else stuck with you far longer than you wanted.

“You okay doll?”

“Of course, just thinkin’ Buck.” You only recently started using the nickname for his nickname, courtesy of Steve. Somehow, it always seemed to put Bucky at ease when you said it.

“Care to tell me what you’re thinkin’ ‘bout?”

“No.”

“Alright.”

“Do you miss it? The simplicity of before all _this._ ” You don’t look at him when you ask, can’t really.

“Yeah. I miss trying to keep Stevie out of trouble, I miss the mindless dates I set us both up with, I miss the carefree nature of everything.”

“Me too. I love what we’re doing, the helping people part, I just hate everything else. I don’t like taking lives, but I know I have to.”

“I get it.” He slings his arm around your shoulder, pulling close while you walk. “I hate it too. I know I enlisted –”

“Don’t lie to be Bucky. I’ve seen your tags, and I have my own. I know the number for people who enlisted and people who were drafted. You were drafted.”

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, burying his face in your hair.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for. You had no control over it.”

“You can’t say anything to Steve. He doesn’t know.” He pleads.

“I won’t, but you should tell him.” You hug his waist, trying to calm the nerves you can feel rolling off him.

“I know. I will. Just maybe when this is all over.”

“Another thing to add to the list then?”

“The list? What list?”

“I distinctly remember you telling me that after all this we were gonna get married, get a dog, and then maybe have a couple of kids. Telling Steve was just added.”

“I distinctly remember you not giving me answer either.”

“Well, I am now.”

~

The team had three days before the next mission was due. Three whole days. It didn’t use to be a lot, but now it feels like two weeks. Bucky was excited, said he finally got to treat his girl, with what you didn’t know. When he walked you up to a fairly nice-looking lodging though, you started to get the idea.

“Bucky?”

“I said I wanted to treat you, didn’t I?” He smiles.

“That you did. But how?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I am to going to worry about. This place looks expensive.”

“It kinda was.”

You huff but know you won’t be getting the price out of him anytime soon, if at all. “So, Sarge, what did you have planned?”

He practically growls at you. “I plan on making up for you sleeping on the cold hard ground for weeks and weeks by doing everything I can’t do to you in a tent.”

“How thin are the walls?” You ask, already feeling the place in between your thighs readying itself for whatever he has planned.

“Thicker than a tent.”

“Well don’t keep me waiting, let’s get to this room and use tonight to the fullest.” You whisper. The breath by his ear sending a shiver down his spine.

“Yes ma’am.”

A few curious looks from other guests and the staff is all you see before the two of you are racing up to your room. Before you can react, the door is shut, and you are shoved against it. His hands are placed harshly against your hips, drawing you closer, his leg set firmly between yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, tugging at the ends of his hair that needs a bit of a trim before setting out again. Although, the sounds he makes when you pull at it might just change your mind.

“Bucky.” You moan. His lips leaving a trail of kisses along the column of your neck, much like the first night. His tongue slipping out to lap at the small bites he leaves inconsistently.

A hard tug on his hair as he moves to your collarbone is all it takes. He groans low in his throat, grabbing your thighs and shoving them around his waist before he walks the two of you over to what you assume is the bed. The coldness underneath your ass says different.

“Too many clothes.” He grumbles as he is fumbling with the buttons of your shirt. You shake your head, smiling wide.

“I agree.” You own fingers are attempting to work at his buttons, having the same problem as him.

You encase his hand in yours, stopping his shaking movements. “Why don’t we just undress ourselves?”

“But I like undressing you.”

“And I enjoy it, but sweetheart, look at your hands.” He does, and huffs at the tremor.

“Fine.”

You don’t even bother unbuttoning your shit before you pull it over your head and out of your pants. They are far tighter than when you first bought them, the muscles in your legs have grown considerably, and although Bucky loves to look at them, you can see the judgment in other eyes when you do. Not that you care, but it still stings. However, the favored pants are soon slipping off your legs, leaving you in only the special undergarments you picked for this occasion.

“When did you get those?”

“Our first break. But I figured neither one of us would like me walking around camp with this underneath my clothes.” You smirk as he stalls his moves, button on his own pants almost undone.

“Damn right.” He growls as he pulls the fabric off and settles in just his underwear.

“You gonna come kiss me Sarge?” You can see his eyes darken as he struts forward, lifting you back up onto the dresser, the cold wood causing you to gasp.

He takes it as an invitation to slip in tongue in your mouth, almost immediately fighting with yours in the best way possible. Your hands move to his hair again, loving the feel of it between your fingers. The moan that escapes your lips when he tugs the straps of your bra down is downright dirty.

“I love you.” He mumbles, words slightly muffled by your skin.

“I love you too.” You rake your hands down his back, leaving angry red marks that send him reeling. “But I’d love you a lot more right now if you stopped teasing.”

He doesn’t answer verbally, doesn’t need too. The fabric covering your breasts is shoved off, just on the right side of careful, as he throws it across the room. Mouth hot against one and hand the other. That sinful tongue of his darts out to lap the stiffened peak of one. And fuck, it’s never felt this good, not even with him before.

“James.”

A small nip and pinch and you are throwing your head back, latching onto his shoulders with one hand, his head with another as he does it again. Just when you think you can’t possibly take any more, he switches sides, and you lose it. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing, wanting nothing more than for something to fill you up, but he seems to ignore your wordless and moaning pleas.

“James, please.” You moan, no longer caring how wanton you sound. His hand not already occupied by your breast moves downward, slipping aside the fabric of your panties, drawing out even more slick from you.

He stops long enough to remove the only thing shielding himself from you. His lips now moving downward with his hands to that place you desperately want him to fill. A warm breath on you and you shiver. A swipe of his finger and you moan. A lick and you practically shoot off the wood.

“Tastes good.” He groans, the vibrations from his words against your nether lips making you even more wet.

Hands gripping your thighs he delves between your legs once more, licking a few long stipes from slit to clit, circling the sensitive nub each time, but never really touching. His nose prods at it as he slips that long tongue inside you. You’re sure the people on the other side can hear you now. Not that you would care at this point, the sensations stemming from between your legs are enough for your mind to go blank.

A flick of his thumb over your clit and your gone. You can feel yourself clench around him, his tongue lapping up everything you give. Sagging against the mirror, he doesn’t let up. He slowly, almost painfully so, slips one of his thick digits in, swirling it amidst the slick still pooling. The turtle like pace he sets isn’t enough to get you off, you know that, he knows that. However, it’s enough to make you want more.

Another finger, still no faster and his tongue pressed against your clit is enough to make you jerk. “Stop teasing.” You gasp, words broken up with harsh breathes as he speeds up just long enough to startle you.

“But it’s so fun.” He whines against you, your legs wrapping around his head tight.

“Please.”

“Tell me.” He orders, only here would you ever let him. But then again, only with his head between your legs or sheathed inside you, would he ever try.

“I want you inside me.”

The groan sends both of you over the edge. His picks you up, gently lay you on the bed and in between harsh and passionate kisses, slips inside with one long thrust. The gasp the ensues is enough for you. The feeling of him finally inside you almost sending you over the edge.

“Not yet doll. I want you to cum with me.” He moans, his movements slow at first, the sounds of skin against skin quiet.

You lock your legs around his hip, pulling him closer and pushing him farther inside. “Fuck me James.” That seems to be enough for him.

His pace quickens, skin slapping harshly, hands gripping your hips in a way sure to leave bruises. The shallow breathing of both of you fills the room with the loud moans. Every hard thrust of his hips sends you closer and closer to the edge. “James!”

The harsh rub of his pubic bone against your clit is too much. Both you can feel yourself clench around him, tightly. He does it again, the vice-like grip of you around him enough that his thrusts grow sloppy. Snaking a hand in between you his thumbs your nub, and you can’t hold it anymore.

He groans, low and loud, as you cum around him. Only a few more languid thrusts and he’s done too. The hot ropes of him filling you up is almost enough to send you over again, the waves of your previous orgasm still not fully over.

“I think you made up for the cold hard ground.” You gasp out, breathing harsh as he collapses next to you.

“Oh, I’m not done yet. Not even close.”

~

The weather was warmer, meaning the nights spend in the tent were with less clothing. Steve discovered that the hard way. Of course, he should’ve known to announce his presence before barging in.

The mission in Greece went well, far better than some of the other ones. But the high from it didn’t last. The boys got orders, you didn’t like it, Peggy didn’t like it, no one did. What you hated the most was that you weren’t going with them.

“I’ll be fine, doll.” Bucky reassures, but you see it in his eyes, he’s nervous.

“I hope so.”

“I’ll come back and we can do anything you want.”

“Anything?” You ask, ideas of varying levels of debauchery flowing through your mind.

“Anything. Promise.”

“Okay.” You look at him, not liking saying goodbye. “When you get back, we’re getting married.”

“I don’t have a ring.” He argues, not really meaning it, but also worried about it to a point. You shake your head at him.

“I don’t care. I want to marry you, not a ring.” You don’t let him speak as you lean up and kiss him. It feels like a goodbye kiss, even though you hope with everything in you it’s not permanent.

“As soon as I get back huh?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“You gonna get all dressed up in white?” He asks, only half mocking.

“I doubt it, nothing pure about me anymore is there? I might grace you with a skirt though.” You give him one more peck on the cheek before hugging him tight. “I expect you in your dress uniform though.”

“Of course. Anything for my best girl, right?”

“Just come back, okay.” You don’t want to cry, never thought of yourself as a crier. But now, holding onto Bucky and realizing that he is likely going into a death trap, that’s all you want to do. 

“I promise.”

~

Their late. Not late enough to cause real concern, but still late. None of them have showed up yet, not Steve, not Dugan, not Pinky, not even Frenchie. Every second that passes amps up your nerves. Peggy’s no better, standing next to you and chewing her lip.

“Do you think they’re alright?” She asks, the red of her lips almost gone.

“Of course. They’re our boys.” You try, it doesn’t work, not when you don’t really believe the words yourself.

“Well, you’re not wearing white.”

“Bucky!” You turn, launching yourself at him. Not fully noticing that he has on the same outfit as the first day you met. The green shirt matching that of your dress.

“I missed you doll.” He murmurs into your neck.

“I missed you too.”

“Still wanna get married?” He asks, setting you down.

“Yes.”

~

The dingy motel room seems familiar. It isn’t, but it brings back memories of your first night with him, with anyone. You can’t help but smile as you trace little shapes on the expanse of his chest, still covered in a light sheen of sweat.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you James.”

You lay there for a while, his arm wrapped around you, yours around him, the sheet not really covering anything from your waist up. Still, his hand traces mindless shapes the same as yours. It almost tickles. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, stilling his movements. You place one on his chest. Chaste compared to earlier.

“It feels different.” He says.

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“I could get used to it.”

“Me too.” You pick your head up from its resting place against him. “Goodnight Mr. Barnes.” A kiss, for luck and good dreams.

“Goodnight, Mrs. Barnes.” A kiss and a grab at your ass for fun.

~

The hoots and hollers from the team when you go you on your next mission are comical. The booze that are passed around aren’t. They don’t have any effect on Steve, and don’t seem to have any on Bucky either. No one comments on it though, not even when everyone else is piss ass drunk, save you and Peg.

“You actually did it! Lady Legs and Buckaroo actually did it!” Dugan yells. You just laugh at him as you lay your head on Bucky’s shoulder.

Most of the other guys are passed out already, snoring loudly. “Yes Dum Dum, we did.” Bucky says.

“Your married!” He says, almost disbelieving.

“Yes, we are.” You answer. Bucky just pulls you closer.

“Never thought I’d see the day.” He mutters into the bottle.

“We’re aware.” You grumble, for the fifth time tonight.

You two escape to your tent shortly after a few more drunken confessions, all of which were embarrassing for anyone involved. You can still hear him, but neither you nor Bucky care at this point, the two of you just want to sleep.

“Think he’ll pass out anytime soon?” He asks.

“One can only hope.” You stop, unsure how to broach the subject with him. “Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“They did things to you, I know that.” You pause, letting him process the direction of the conversation. “I don’t need, or want, to know everything. I just want to know if it was a botched version of the serum Steve and I got.”

He doesn’t say anything for a while, you almost don’t think he will. “How’d you know?”

“I’m your wife, James. Your fiancé, girlfriend, and friend before that. I also saw what you looked like when you rescued you. I saw the look on your face when you spotted the doctor, and I knew they were conducting experiments. The guys said no one came back from where you were. You also have far more stamina than a normal man, are far stronger than you should be, and didn’t get drunk tonight or the night in the bar.”

“I haven’t been as careful as I thought then,” he mutters. “Yes, it was botched version of it. Far less safe obviously.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothin’ for you to be sorry about doll. It wasn’t your fault.” You hear the shaky breath he takes. “Please don’t hate me for it.”

“I could never hate you. I’m not gonna leave you over it either. I love you Bucky, botched serum and all.”

~

Cold snow and iced over ground gave way to warm weather and soft, mud-covered ground soon after that conversation a week ago. The SSR offered Steve a way to Italy, he declined, much to everyone’s dismay. He seems to be the only one unaffected by the night sleeping in a tent. His excuse, as always, is a good one. Always about doing the right thing, clearing towns of the Nazi and HYDRA influence as we go. Still, you missed a bed. You missed the things that came with a bed too.

You and Bucky’s sex life is … bland, at the moment at least. There simply isn’t much room in a tent to get creative and the thin fabric certainly does nothing to muffle sounds. A few too many incidents of team members barging in due to what they considered sounds of distress is enough to let the two of you know that until a more private setting can be found, exciting sex just isn’t practical. That didn’t stop you from trying though.

“I’m going to kill Steve for refuses the offer of better transportation.” Bucky grumbles just ahead of you.

“Feeling a little under the weather, are we?” You ask him, after the fifth time he falls in the mud. Each time you struggle to keep the laughter in.

“Very funny doll. Let’s not forget the roles were reversed a while back.”

“True, but I wasn’t covered in mud.”

“It’s a good thing I love you.” He growls, and without warning, launches himself at you.

Falling back into the mud pile he just vacated, you squeal. “James Buchanan Barnes! You devil you!” Everyone turns to see the commotion and all laugh at the sight.

“What the bloody hell are you two doing?” Peggy asks, laughing while trying scold us.

“Ask my husband!”

“Barnes?” She asks, hands on her hips, lips tugged into a smile.

Without looking up from your eyes he replies, “Y/N was making fun of me.”

“Are you a child?” She asks, still smiling, Steve now next to her.

“Only sometimes.” He drops his voice, low enough that only you can hear. “Other times I like to make you scream for a different reason.”

You aren’t sure whether you want to moan or hit him with the handful of mud poised at your side. You settle on a grumble of frustration. “You are insatiable James Barnes.”

“Only for you Y/N Barnes.”

~

The bed beneath you is a welcome change after weeks of a tent and the ground. However, nothing is quite as welcome as the head between your legs, fingers parting what he can’t with his mouth. Your own fingers are tangled in his hair, tugging slightly, pulling him closer if possible. He doesn’t move though, only continues his ministrations, far too slow for your liking.

“Bucky, please.”

“Patience my dear.” He mumbles before delving back in, tongue lapping at your entrance, trying to taste every ounce of your wetness.

The moan coming you as he slips his finger in are sure to wake Steve, who is on the other side of the wall behind you. The mere thought causes you to tense a little. He feels it, stopping. “What’s going on in that head of yours love?”

“Steve … he can probably … oh god Bucky …” You try to explain as he resumes his movements once you relax a bit.

“I don’t care.” He mumbles, leaning back down to suck on your clit. “But I better not hear his name again for a while.”

“Fuck!” The harsh curl of his finger coupled with the addition of a second sends you higher. You swear your eyes roll back, whites showing.

“Atta girl.” He groans, the slight movement of the bed an indication he’s rutting his hips against the side now. “You taste so good.”

“James.” You gasp as he moves his fingers faster, tongue following, licking at your clit faster than before. “Need you.”

“Fuck doll.” He groans, moving from his place on the carpeted floor and over you.

One swift movement, no more prep necessary, he pushes in, bottoming out in record time. The loud groan from his lips already sending you clenching around him even more. “James … move.”

He does, slowly at first. Long and measured movements are met with the soft slap of hips against hips, fingers coming down to tweak your exposed nipples. The jagged breath at the dual sensations is enough for him to pick up the pace, even if only slightly. Even as you lock your legs around him, urging him deeper, harder, faster, he doesn’t budge.

One hand slips downward, hovering over your hyper-sensitive nub, the other still pulling, pinching, and rubbing at the peak of your breast. The gentle press of the finger against you makes you clench, squeezing him harder.

“Fuck Y/N.” He pants. “Gonna make me cum like a boy if you keep that up.”

“Faster.” Is all you manage as he whispers in your ear.

His grip shifts, holding onto your hips now, the slow pace now a thing of the past. The almost brutal pounding does you in, the release that was only impeding moments ago is exploding now. Another push and pull of your hips and he’s growling, pulling out.

“Hands and knees baby.” He moans into your ear. You oblige.

One hand resting on your ass he loves so much and the other wrapped around his length, he is guiding himself into you. Your prior climax letting him slip in with ease, tip reaching new depths at this angle. Arching your back as he bottoms out draws a guttural moan from him. The fast and hard pounding from before resumes. The slapping of skin is the only sound next to the almost scream-like sounds coming from your lips.

“Oh … fuck! Y/N.” He groans, thrust becoming sloppier now. You don’t mind, your own walls are clenching harder, the heat pooling in your center. You can feel yourself reaching that high again.

“S’close Bucky.” You mumble, dropping down to your elbows, face falling into the pillows; they don’t do much to muffle the sounds though.

“Me too.” He groans, lips trailing up your back, chest sliding against your sweaty skin. “Get yourself there.”

You nod, slipping your hand between your legs, tracing your clit with your fingers. “Shit. Oh, fuck!” You moan, his thrusts bottoming out in rapid succession.

“Cum for me doll.” He moans, lips pressing into your neck as you collapse farther into the bed. It doesn’t take you long, you second release crashing over you like a wave. He doesn’t take long to follow, ropes of his own painting your walls.

The squelchy sound as he pulls out and collapses next to you is the dirtiest and sound you’ve heard in a while. “We’ve got have sex more often. If we keep doing this, you’re gonna kill me.” Bucky gasps.

“Well, I don’t find the boys seeing me splayed out for you like a feast too arousing, and they have a habit of that.”

“True.” Slowly he gets up and walks, ass on full display for your viewing pleasure, into the bathroom. The cool sensation of a washcloth between your legs makes you moan a little.

“Nuh uh, I can’t do another round yet.”

“Not asking. Just feels good after all that.”

“Not surprised. We went for,” he pauses, hand still holding the cold wet cloth against you as he looks at the bedside clock, “four hours.”

“I’m gonna kill you! You’re gonna kill me is more like it.” You grumble, a smile playing at your lips.

“But you love it.”

“Yes, I do.”

~

_1945_

You weren’t going on this mission. The higher-ups said it was a ‘man’s job’ something you took high offence to but could do nothing about. You knew what it was, Bucky filled you in as much as he could, but even he couldn’t tell you everything, and you had a feeling, he didn’t want to.

The goodbye was worse than last time. You weren’t just saying goodbye to Bucky, to James Barnes; you were saying goodbye to your husband. Even Colonel Philips gave you a wide berth, everyone could see the sadness seeping from you pores. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something felt different this time.

You waited with the nurses this time, Peggy pacing nearby, waiting for word, anything. Nothing came when it was due. Even an hour late, nothing. Two hours. Three. Four. After seven you were hysterical, only on the inside though. Outside, you were a shell. Your eyes haven’t left the same spot on the floor since hour five.

“Mrs. Barnes?” A woman says, tapping at your shoulder.

“What?”

“Their back.”

You jump up, running in the direction of the tent you know they will be, but as you get there, only nine men come out, Steve included. His eyes are hollow, glassy, red. Your breath catches in your throat.

“Steve?”

“Y/N.” He chokes out. Your breathing picks up, tears prickling at the back of your eyes. You know what is going to come out of his mouth, but you have to ask.

“Steve, where’s Bucky?”

He can’t answer you, can only shake his head as sobs rip through him too. The two of you cling to each other, sobs wracking your bodies, the sounds echoing throughout the camp. No one comes up to console either one of you. They can’t. Bucky’s gone.

~

The gun fire and sound of bombs still echo in your skull as you climb into the plane, hiding in an alcove, out of sight. You can hear the sounds of the battle, muffled by the metal. Steve, his voice yelling, Peggy isn’t far behind.

You turn a corner, spotting multiple planes with cities written on their backs. You manage to take one out by the time Steve show up. His already haggard face becomes more so when he sees you. The two of you, bloodied and bruised make your way into the cockpit, Schmidt waiting.

“You don’t give up, do you?” He asks, more to Steve than to you. Still, you count yourself as part of it.

“Nope!” He yells, throwing himself into the fight. You don’t get in the way; you see the desperation and rage on Steve’s face. He needs this. He needs this fight after Bucky. You, you need him here.

His shield is flying, fists hitting everything in their paths. Somehow, through the array of bullets and sparks and everything in between, you make your way into the pilot’s seat. You don’t know what anything says, or what to do with anything, but you recognize two words: New York. The plane is heading for New York.

Patting your legs, trying to find that one gun you know you haven’t used yet, you frantically try to help. Gripping the handle and pointing it at the red man you fire, the bullet just missing anything vital. Just as the blood starts to seep from his side, Steve’s shield shoots him into the console holding the glowing cube.

“What have you done? No!” He screams, picking up the cube. You dive, fingers just brushing the thing before you grab onto it as well.

“What are you doing?” Steve screams at you, Schmidt’s face losing color as he watches the shapes and energy encircle both of you.

The only thing running through your head is Bucky. You could’ve protected him, if you’d been there. Shielded him from the thing that killed him. You could’ve taken the fall. It should have been you. It shouldn’t have been him. Not your Bucky. You could’ve protected him.

“I may not survive this, but I’ll be damned before you get what you want.” You growl at him as you grip it tighter. You can feel it starting to seep into you, almost as if it’s a living thing.

“No!” He screams, trying to pull it from you, but even with your own grip, it feels as if it won’t let go of you. “No.”

“You took my husband from me.” You growl, knuckles white with the strain, voice even harsher, blood coming from your nose. “And you’re going to pay for that.” You let go, the cube unleashing the entirety of its power onto him, the sheer force of it throwing you into the console.

You see a stream of bright blue flash, the body of Schmidt turning into dust, or at least that’s what it looks like. Your hand moves up to your face, wiping the blood from your nose. You don’t say anything as you look to Steve, a small smile on your face. The only thing you see is his panic-stricken face as you start to feel yourself fall. The metal hitting your head echoes even as the plane flies.

You watch as the dreaded cube burns through the plan, falling into the ocean. Eyes fluttering you smile, your vision fading in and out as you think of him. Your James. Your Bucky. Your husband. His smile, as he looks down at you is the last thing you see before your vision fades completely, world going dark and silent.

_2011_

“Good morning.” A plastic cup is shoved in front of your face. “How are you feeling?” the voice sounds feminine, but the haziness is there, the sounds muffled a bit.

“Where am I?” The voice that comes out of you doesn’t seem like your own, but yet it is.

“You’re in a recovery facility.”

“Where am I?”

“You’re in a recover-”

“Where am I?” You start to recognize your own voice, and it sounds raspy.

“I don’t understand.” The woman, a nurses uniform you recognize on. It seems off though, slightly altered. You glance at her legs, no hosiery.

“What year is it?” You ask, slightly surer of yourself.

“It’s nineteen-forty-five.” She answers, an uneasy smile on her face now.

“You’re lying.” You stare at her now, the pit in your stomach growing. “What year is it?”

“I told you –”

“Stop lying to me!” You turn back to her, taking a shaky breath. “No respectable woman in nineteen-forty-five would go to her workplace in a skirt with no hosiery. And if I’m right, this is a government facility, meaning that in forty-five, that would be required. Now what year is it?”

She steps back, hand going under the lip of the table in the corner. You know she presses an alarm, but yet you can’t seem to bring yourself to care. Still, you know whoever she calls can’t be good. “Sir, she knows.”

You shove at her, the punch thrown at her jaw sends her flying. It doesn’t take much time before your instincts kick in, your hands pulling open the door. You don’t make it far, guns pointed at you in every direction.

“Guns down.” A male this time. No one moves. “I said guns down.” He tries again, this time they listen. “I’m Agent Phil Coulson. You must be Y/N Y/L/N.”

“How do you know my name?”

“History.” He doesn’t offer you more than that.

“What year is it? Where am I?”

“New York City, twenty-eleven.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Language, fluff, angst, sadness, humor, time jumps, canon typical warnings, a bit of everything. You may not read this story if you are under 18.

_2014_

It was cold, you knew that much. Between the weather – New York in January isn’t the best – and the fact that the news was sending shivers down your spine, you felt cold in a way you hadn’t in years. HYDRA. You thought it was gone, of course, you would have known better if you had taken Steve up on the offer of becoming an Avenger, or even an agent really.

You didn’t, and for that, you could kick yourself. But at the time, the small café and bookstore you own and run seemed like a good idea. It got you away from everything, let you process your past in a way Steve didn’t seem to understand. He came to visit, sure, but not as often as you would like. Fortunately, his friends seem nice enough, when he brings them.

He told you about Peggy; you have yet to visit her. A part of you hates yourself for it, but you want to remember her how you knew her – young, vibrant, full of life, and seeing Steve has to be hard enough. Still, every Sunday you leave three hours open in case you decide to visit.

The early rush has quieted, the people on their way to work have stopped already, to-go cup already in hand and sitting on their desks, most likely, while the late-comers are starting to straggle in. Maybe it’s those years with Peggy, in the war that led to believe your gut feelings, but today feels different.

Five hours later, the afternoon sun just starting to lessen, Steve walks through the door, scowl on his face. Except, this isn’t his normal scowl, his annoyed-with-work look, this is his devastated look. “Y/N.”

“Steve.” Setting your own book down, along with the mug of coffee, you walk over to him. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t …” It’s then that you notice the tears in his eyes.

“Steve?” It takes you back, to all those years before, to forty-five. The look is eerily similar, too similar. “What the hell is going on?”

“J – B – he …” The unshed tears start to spill now. Without thinking you wrap your arms around him. “The Winter Soldier.”

“Steve, come on, you can say it.” You whisper, almost afraid to hear the words.

“The Winter Soldier, he’s … he’s Bucky.”

“No … no.” You start to cry now, the realization that you left him there, in the cold, all those years in HYDRA’s hands, hitting you. “James … for this long?” You ask, not really sure what the question is, but asking it, nonetheless. 

“Yeah.”

“Oh god, Steve.”

~

You started reading the history books, the theories by people you always assumed were crazy. You even read most of the more classified SHIELD files that Natasha released to the public, the ones pertaining to the Winter Soldier in particular. Everything seemed surreal, too horrible to be true, but then again, only the good seemed to be lies.

To your surprise, there were old files of you there too, the records of what you were, what happened. You always thought that experimentation done on you was off record, not that you minded, but it would have been nice to know.

The bell above the door, one in which you repaired after Steve’s last visit, rings, signaling another customer. “Welcome to – Sam.”

“Hey, got a minute?”

“Sure.” You sigh, going over to lock the door and flip the ‘open’ sign. “What is it?”

“I assume Steve filled you in some …”

“If by filled in you mean that my husband is the Winter Soldier, then yes, he did.” You twirl the ring on your finger, one that hold no monetary value, but still held so much weight.

“Yeah … that.” He takes a deep breath, obviously preparing to tell you more. “We’re going looking for him. Steve doesn’t want you to come.”

“Oh. I suppose not.” Still, the tears welling in your eyes are enough for Sam.

“Will you be okay, here?”

“As good as I can be.” You pause, wiping the few stays from your cheeks. “Be safe, both of you. I’ll kill you myself if you aren’t.”

“Of course.”

~

It’s late, almost closing, the moon high in the sky and the last of your regulars all gone. The files are open, sitting on a table in the back, strewn across it, your eyes trying desperately to find something you didn’t see before. You don’t know why, it won’t change anything, will probably only make you feel more guilty, but you need something. The coffee in your hand, the only thing keeping you awake at this point, almost spills when the bell above the door chimes. You sigh, hoping that this person has a good reason for coming in five minutes before you close.

“Hello and welcome to Connie’s Corner. What can I help you find?” The cheerfulness in your voice is noticeably fake, but you don’t care.

“Do you have any history books on World War Two?” You know that voice, even if it sounds a bit different than before.

The coffee mug drops form your hands, shattering on the ground as you stare at the face you dreamed about for so long. He freezes, his fight or flight instincts kicking in, you don’t notice. You can’t move, can’t seem to get your brain to function, but neither can he.

“James?” The name is a question coming from your lips, barely above a whisper, but he hears it. He doesn’t respond, the panicked look only deepening. Your too lost in your own head, memories playing back in your mind and tears staining your eyes to notice when he runs.

As you drop to your knees, pieces of the mug digging into your legs, you cry, you sob. Perhaps harder than you did when Steve told you, but it hurts. It hurts to see the man you loved so fiercely run from you in fear, in panic. It hurts to have proof, with your own eyes, that he’s alive, but so far from it at the same time. It hurts enough that you don’t notice the blood now staining the floor.

~

_2016_

Steve explained everything, after the fact. The entire battle, what Bucky went through, the Accords, the disbandment of the Avengers, everything. You cried, even if you didn’t know them very well, you knew them, and knew what they meant to him.

You hadn’t seen him since Peggy’s funeral, and even then, you didn’t stay long. You had the shop, and he warned you of the dangers of associating with him after his refusal to sign the Accords. Many times, you told him of your opinion, neither for nor against them, still you assured him that he could count on you if he needed to.

You wait for updates about Bucky weekly. You’ve grown to think of Shuri, despite never actually meeting her, as a little sister. However, each update is much the same, she is working on him, slowly to make sure she doesn’t damage anything but the trigger words and the rest of his Winter Soldier conditioning. It keeps you up at night though, the not knowing, the inability to see him, to hold him again. The two years when Steve and Sam were looking for him were bad enough, but this is worse.

T’Challa, Steve, everyone, has told you that a plane ticket to Wakanda after the events following the bombing will look suspicious, especially since technically, you and Bucky are still married. It eats at you though, even if you know the reason is good. You miss him. You miss the laughs, the simplicity, the comfort, the passion, the sheer rightness of everything. Still, you wonder if anything will be the same, even close to it; the two of you are different people now.

~

It’s been months now, with nothing. Shuri assures that everything is working, but it’s far more complicated than she had anticipated; the Winter Soldier is far more than just trigger words. She told you that he made her promise to keep him under until there was no chance of him ever fulling slipping back into that persona, trigger words or not. You understood it, truly, that didn’t mean you had to like it.

Now though, long after she told you that you could visit, no word has been sent back, either to deny or okay your request. Part of you worries that it’s him, that he’s worried about seeing you for the first time in so long. The thought has crossed your mind more than once, still does, but you’re still eager to see him again. It comes in the form of an encrypted email the following week. Ominous in nature and it breaks your heart. _‘He needs you. – S’_

“Rose!” You call to your employee. Her head pops out from behind a shelf moments later. “I need you to cover the shop for a week or so, family emergency.”

“Y/N … I’ve known you for years, and numerous times you’ve told me you have no family. What is it?”

“I can’t tell you.” It’s the best you can come up with in your stupor. You’d completely forgotten that you had never lied to Rose, omitted a few things, but never lied. At the time, you didn’t have any family.

“Did you get mixed up in something?” She asks, her warm brown eyes looking at you intently. It makes you want to tell her.

“Yes, but not like you’re thinking.”

“Alright,” she sighs, “be safe, okay?”

“Always.”

~

Shuri instructed you to wait for transportation at an old abandoned building on the outskirts. It seemed weird but figuring that everyone was on the run and Wakanda’s protective nature, it seemed within character.

A sleek black jet-like thing comes into view, almost silent before your eyes. It was cloaked, far better than anything you’ve ever seen before. “Hello?”

“Y/N!” The girl of the hour screams, bounding off the thing right at you. “I’m sorry for the hysterics, and I had to threaten my brother, but I’m here.”

“I get it. I wouldn’t want the smartest mind wandering around either.” Your quip seems to ease her spirits.

“Oi! That one hurt!”

“What’s going on?” You ask, far more serious than before. She calms almost instantly.

“I’ll explain on the way.”

Grabbing your bags, you follow her. It’s nice, far better than flying commercially. Even as you stow your things where she directs, the unease sits like a rock in your stomach. “Shuri, what happened?”

“Barnes, he … isn’t taking recovery well.” Her words are sad, and it worries you. “I was able to get everything possible, without damage out, but there are things left that bother him. He tried to explain it, as did I, but he refuses to see anyone. He isn’t a danger, not to others.”

“What do you mean, there are things left?”

“Parts of him that he thought were part of his conditioning, weren’t. They were already there, the darker parts of him that the war woke up. He’s having trouble coming to terms with it. I thought that maybe, having you there would help.”

“He doesn’t know I’m coming does he?” You ask, almost scared of the answer.

“No. He doesn’t.”

By the time you land hours later, you’re a nervous wreck. The thought of surprising your husband doesn’t sit well with you, not with who you both are at this point. Nothing to be done about it though. You know you’re so much more than just his wife, but the moment, that’s what you’re hung up on. Does he even remember you?

Steve and Shuri have told you, numerous times, that he remembers most of his life, all the important bits. What you don’t know, is if he remembers you the way you do him. Does he remember the little things; the quirks about you that he used to love? Will he still?

“He’s called White Wolf here.” Shuri explains, breaking you from your head as she leads you to what she said was his hut. “Me, I just call him Broken White Boy.”

“Really?” You look to her, and the humor in both your eyes is a nice distraction.

“I truly am sorry about this being a surprise.”

“I know. I just hope it doesn’t backfire on us.”

They two of you don’t speak while you walk. She had warned you his place was far from the city, but you didn’t think she meant _this_ far. Although, as much as you loved the city, what you saw of it, you see the appeal of being out here. It’s quiet, vast, secluded, everything you picture James needing.

“Sergeant Barnes!” Shuri yells, approaching a one-armed man tending to what look like goats. It makes you smile.

“Yeah?”

“You have a visitor.”

“Tell Steve I don’t want another one of therapy sessions.” He calls back, not even looking your way.

“I’m offended,” you reply, “I didn’t realize I looked that masculine.” The second he hears your voice he tenses.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He says. You ignore him, waving Shuri off as you walk closer.

“So, you remember who I am?”

“Yes.” The word is barely above a whisper, but you catch it, and it hurts.

“Then why shouldn’t I be here?” He doesn’t answer you. “Dammit James! I’ve been worried about you for months!”

“Don’t. Don’t worry about me. I’m not worth it.”

“Of course, you are!” His words hurt you, far more than you care to admit.

“No, I’m not!” He yells, his one arm flailing around. “You know what I did, what I was! Hell, part of him is still there!”

“No, he’s not James.” You mutter, tears in your eyes. “There’s nothing left but you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’m your wife Bucky! I fell in love with every part of you, good and bad. There was always a darkness in you. That doesn’t mean you aren’t a good man.”

“But I’m not! I’m not good!”

“James Buchanan Barnes! You are one of the best men I know!” You yell. “Present tense. Not knew, know.”

“But-”

“No buts! You were brainwashed! They broke you! For seventy years you were a prisoner of war, under various forms of mind control too. What you did under their rule wasn’t you.”

“They could never fully take you away from me. You and Steve. You guys were the only people that were still there, slightly.” He’s crying and it takes everything in you not to throw your arms around him and cry too. “All I could think of those first few years was how you and Steve would be disappointed in me. How you’d hate me for letting them win.”

“Bucky … I would never hate you. Steve would never hate you.” The words coming from your mouth are low, whispered, filled with tears.

You watch, unsure, as Bucky’s own tears roll down his face. This time, you don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him. He tenses, but lets you hold him. Minutes pass before he wraps his arm around you as well.

~

“I made dinner.” He looks up from his position, eyes staring at the feed he’s scattering. Your words barely seem to register.

“Okay.”

“Are you going to eat?” Silently you add ‘with me.’

“Yeah.”

You nod, only allowing yourself to smile once you turn away from him. It unsettles him, how you’re so relaxed in his presence, so you pretend, for him, for now. You feign indifference, if only to get him used to the fact that you’re not going anywhere. The act breaks your heart though; you want nothing more than to hold him in your arms and love him until he can’t take anymore.

It’s silent as you eat. Uncomfortable in every way. Both of you can feel the unsaid words between you, the truths that neither of you want to speak of. His pleading look is enough for you to sigh, knowing you have to break the silence.

“Tell me.” He knows what you mean, even without you saying it.

“It was cold, too cold. I think I laid there for days, bleeding, in and out of consciousness. I remember these men coming and dragging me away. I thought it was you guys, that you’d found me. It wasn’t. I thought later that I saw Zola, but I know it wasn’t him. Steve said you captured him after I fell. I don’t remember much on the arm, only after I woke up with it.”

“Bucky …”

“Everything was hazy, out of focus. It took them years, years of that _chair_ to get me where they wanted me, mentally. They couldn’t erase the feelings of you and Steve though. Not completely. I remember someone saying that they could never send me after either of you, unless I was the only choice they had.”

“Buck-”

“I could’ve killed you! If they had found out where you were, I could’ve killed you.”

“No, you wouldn’t have.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because you didn’t kill Steve. You didn’t kill Steve, even when you had the chance. Even when he was already half dead, you pulled him from the water.”

He stares at you, a hard look on his face. One that makes you think he doesn’t believe a word you just said. Even as he helps you into his room before he makes his way to the makeshift bed on the floor, you know.

“I love you.” You whisper it, hoping and yet not, that he catches it. It’s true, just as much now as it was when you first said it. You never stopped.

“You shouldn’t.”

~

_2017_

Once a month, for a week, you’ve gone to Wakanda to see Bucky. Each time, he seems better, more like the man you married. The domesticity of each visit is something new, something the two of you never got seventy-three years ago. It seems surreal now that you were married far less than a year before he fell, before he was taken, before you went under.

He barely touches you now, even in passing. Hardly even a friendly touch. He’s scared of hurting you, of only having one arm now, you know it; that doesn’t mean his brushing off of you doesn’t hurt. You so badly want it to be like it was before, but it can’t, never will be. The two of you are different people, have been through far too much to go back to the way you were. However, at least these past few visits, he has greeted you when you landed. A big step for him.

“You’re back.” He says with a bright smile on his face as you step off the jet.

“Of course. I said I would be, didn’t I?” Your tone is teasing, but you both know your serious. He needs to hear it, that you didn’t leave him.

“You did.”

“How’ve you been?” It’s casual, but even you know that you mean it far more deeply than it seems.

“Good. The goats miss you.” You hear his unsaid words, hear the ‘I missed you too’ even as he doesn’t say it.

“Steve come to visit?” You try to make idle conversation as he starts walking back to his home, to your home now.

“Yeah, left a few days ago. He loved the kid’s names.”

“You tell him they were inspired by him?” You laugh.

“Of course.” You hear him chuckle, truly for the first time in months. “He too offence to Rahat and Prost though. Said he was never shit nor a dumbass.”

“Says the dumbass.”

“I told him as much.”

The banter is easy, normal. It feels almost too good to be true. As much as you want to believe Bucky is really doing this good, you know it’s only a good day, or week. It never lasts long. You grab his hand, the warm feeling of it encasing you makes you smile.

“How’ve you been, really?” You ask, knowing the answer from before was only half.

“Good, mostly.” He sighs. “I’ve been working on accepting that the darker part of me, is well, _me_ and not _him_. It’s hard though.”

“Tell me James.”

“I hate them. HYDRA, the people that took me, everything. I want to kill every single one of them. Steve keeps telling me their gone, but I know better. As long as one believer is still alive, they will grow again.”

“I hate them too,” you admit, “for everything they did to you. For everything they did to others. I hate everything about them.”

“I just … everyone now is about forgiveness, letting go of the past. I can’t. I can’t forgive them for what they did, for everything that they did to not only me, but so many others. I can’t let go of what happened.”

“Normally, I’d agree with them, tell you to forgive and move on. But no about this. This, what happened to you, what HYDRA is, it’s not something you forgive. And you’re right, even if they have an unplanted seed, it will grow. I have grown to truly dislike fighting, but this James, this I will gladly support you in. This is one instance where I think revenge might just help you heal.”

“I’m not even sure if I want revenge. I just want all of them dead, so that they can’t hurt anyone else.”

~

It’s the harshness of his breathing that wakes you up months later. The quiet moans and groans coming from his lips that alert you something’s wrong. Even in the forties, he was never a vivid dreamer, not unless they were nightmares. The sound of him thrashing around almost makes you cry.

“Bucky?” You ask, sitting so you can see him on the cot. “James, wake up.” He doesn’t respond.

“No.” It’s a whisper, barely audible, but you hear it. Without thinking, you jump up and rush to him. Placing your hand gently on his shoulder, you squeeze.

“James … Bucky … wake up.” Still, he continues to move around, sounding almost like he’s in pain. It breaks your heart. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s just a nightmare.” You whisper, trying, even fruitlessly, to calm him in his unconscious state.

For what seems like hours you lay there, whispering and murmuring reassurances in his ear. He calms, finally, and you continue to hold him, running your fingers through his hair. “Y/N?” You can hear the tears in his voice.

“Yeah?”

“Are you real?”

“Yes Bucky, I’m real. I’m here.” He doesn’t respond verbally, only pulls you tighter with his arm and hold you.

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, tears wetting your hair as he pushes his face into your neck.

“C’mon, get up.” Slowly, you pull him up from his cot. “You’re gonna sleep next to me tonight.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“James,” you stare at him with a bored expression, “you won’t. I promise. You didn’t hurt me earlier, and you won’t now.” Reluctantly, he nods and settles himself on one side.

You fall asleep to his even breathing, arm slung over your waist, his breath tickling the back of your neck slightly.

~

You were ready. You wanted him, badly. Despite the fact that it has been over seventy years since you last had sex at all, Bucky looking like he does, well, it doesn’t help matters. For months you’ve known not to push it, not to push sex and intimacy on him too quickly, but this week, your patience has been running thin. Maybe it’s the hot weather, maybe it’s the lack of shirts while he’s working, maybe it’s the fact that the last few visits, you’ve been sleeping curled up against his chest.

Even now, you know you shouldn’t push him, but you can’t help it. It’s subtle, the hints your dropping, ones he doesn’t seem to catch onto at all. You’ve been wearing your nicer underwear, shorter shorts, tighter tank-tops, you’ve even used some of that perfume Natasha gifted you the last time you saw her. Even Rose commented on it when you wore it to the shop. Still, nothing. Not even a lingering glance that sets your panties aflame.

“Bucky,” you start as he comes in the door, sweat dripping down his chest, “we need to talk.” His face drops.

“You want a divorce.” As soon as the words leave his mouth you gape at him.

“What?” You yell, positive that the sound echoes in the fields. “What the hell gave you that idea?”

“I’m not the same. I’ve only got one arm, I’ve done terrible things, I haven’t exactly been a good husband, you name it.”

“Is that it? You think I want a divorce because you’re not the exact same person I married over seventy years ago?” Disbelief colors your words. “You think just because you only have one arm and have done horrible shit – which we’ve had a discussion about – under brainwashing, that I suddenly don’t want you anymore!”

“Yes! And you should!” He yells. “I was a monster Y/N, and I’m not the person you married, you don’t deserve to put shackled to me.”

“Shackled? You think that’s what I really feel, that I’m shackled to you? Bucky … that’s not it at all.” It hurts that he doesn’t think himself worthy of being loved, by you most of all.

“Then what is it?” He asks.

“I – I …” Suddenly, even with all your bravado, you can’t seem to say it. Sighing, you go to start into the bedroom.

“Doll?” He asks. It melts your heart.

“I wanted to know why you won’t touch me.”

“I do touch you.” You want to laugh; it seems he’s gotten clueless with his old age.

“No. I wanted to know why you wouldn’t _touch_ me.” This time, you do chuckle. “I’ve been dropping hints all week.”

“I don’t …”

“I want to have sex with you! I want to kiss you, I want to hold you, I want to love you. More than anything I want to make love to you again. I want to _feel_ you.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” He asks.

“I didn’t want to push. I knew you needed to be comfortable with me, fully, but dammit James, it’s been over seventy years and I want to fuck someone! I’ve been wearing the skimpiest clothes I own in the hopes you might look at me. I even have on the perfume Natasha gave me; one she claims makes men go wild. I’ve been sitting closer to you, hugging you tighter, sleeping closer, everything I know how to do.”

“I don’t even know how anymore.” He admits. “I don’t know how to do any of this anymore, sex, intimacy, love. It’s all so foreign.”

“Kiss me.” You interrupt.

“What?”

“Kiss me. We can figure the rest out as we go, just please, kiss me.” You’re pleading now, practically begging. He nods.

Both of you step closer to one another, and then it goes to shit. Apparently, neither one of you remember how to do this. Your foreheads bang together, noses bump, you step on his toes, and then, you’re laughing. You’re laughing harder than you have in a long time.

“I told you I don’t know how to do this anymore.”

“Oh, shut up Bucky.” You’re still laughing. “Apparently, you’re not the only one.”

“No, I guess not.”

“Okay, let’s try this again.” You look up into his eyes. “You, just, stand still.” He nods. Slowly, you move upwards, leaning in, and tilting your head, meeting his lips with yours.

It doesn’t take long before instinct kicks in and the two of you are kissing like old times. A little sloppier and a bit more awkward, but still better than before. Your hands move hesitantly to his shoulders as his hand does the same to your hips. You tongue teases his bottom lip and you feel him tense slightly.

“Just go with it.” You whisper, breaking apart for a much-needed breath.

“Right.” He says, this time leaning in before you do.

It feels like the old Bucky now. Tongues feeling each other, lips moving in sync, hands squeezing whatever it is they’re holding, at least yours are. His hand it just resting, grip a but tighter, but not moving. It feels good.

“I love you.”

“So, you don’t want a divorce?”

“No. I don’t”

~

You wanted Rose to be in the loop. She was your best friend, one of the few you had outside of the Avengers and Wakanda. She deserved to know why she was covering for you in the little store you owned.

“Shuri?” You ask tentatively from over the secure line she has set up a few months ago.

“Huh?”

“I want to bring someone with me next time I come.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” She asks.

“No, but Rose deserves to know.”

“Do you want me to warn Barnes?”

“Yes. This isn’t something that should be a surprise.”

~

“Alright, what’s going on?” Rose asks as soon as you tell her you want her to come with you for a few days.

“I want you to know what I’m doing when you cover for me.”

“You’re seeing a man hon, I thought that was obvious.”

“It is, but you need to meet him, and everyone else.”

“Look, you know I love you, but if this is gonna get me arrested, leave me out of it.” The slight bit of apprehension in her voice doesn’t ease your nerves.

“Rose … please.”

“Fine. Fine. I’ll go.”

“Thank you.”

Unfortunately, you didn’t tell her who would be picking you up, you mentioned it would be by private aircraft, but forget to mention that three former members of the Avengers would be your escort.

“Stevie.” You smile at him, his bearded face and darker hair a bit of a shock, but not a bad one.

“Y/N.”

“Hold the hell up!” Rose calls from behind you, just as you were about to hug your old friend. “You mean to tell me you’ve been hanging out with _Steve Rogers_ and company for how long?”

“A long time and an ever longer story; one I tell you on the way.”

“Who are you?”

“Y/N Y/LN, first female super-soldier.”

The stiff movements and shock from Rose as the three of you board the jet don’t ease you any. You knew you should’ve warned her, but you didn’t.

“I think you should’ve told the poor woman something Y/N.” Natasha says from the cockpit, her now blonde hair swinging as she turns to face you.

“Nat,” you say, “you’re probably right, but it’s too late now.”

“Not only Steve Rogers then.” Rose mumbles.

“Rose, meet Natasha and Sam.”

“Um … hi?”

“Hello!” Sam yells, although the extra volume isn’t needed, from his own seat.

“Where are we headed?” She asks.

“We are going to Wakanda, so that you can meet my husband, James Buchanan Barnes.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Language, fluff, angst, sadness, humor, time jumps, 18+, nsfw, canon typical warnings, a bit of everything. You may not read this story if you are under 18.

_2018_

Bucky’s recovery has been going well, far better than the months prior. Rose has taken it upon herself to travel with you every now and then, each time saying she needed another fix of that hunky husband of yours. You don’t blame her, each time you leave it seems to get harder and harder.

Still, through all the bliss, you can’t help but feel like something is wrong. The only time you’ve ever felt something like it was –

“Bucky!” You shout. His head pokes out from the small hut.

“What?”

“Teach me everything you can about combat.”

“I – I – what?”

“I can’t explain it, but I _feel_ it. Something feels wrong, very wrong.”

“Y/N what are you –”

“James … please.” He must hear the sheer desperation in your voice because he nods.

~

“Y/N, what’s going on?” Steve asks from his place across from you and Bucky.

“I don’t know how to explain it, I don’t even know if I can. I just … something isn’t right. I don’t know if it’s here, or another planet, but something is _wrong_.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky interjects.

“It feels like twenty-twelve again Steve, that feeling, only worse.”

“Okay, what do you mean it feels like twenty-twelve again? I thought you weren’t in that fight.”

“I wasn’t.” You turn to look at your husband, knowing that secret you’ve been withholding from him isn’t one he’ll take well. “During the battle on the Valkyrie, when the Red Skull activated the Tesseract, I grabbed it.”

“You did WHAT!” Bucky yells. “Y/N –”

“I know it was stupid! But at the time I didn’t care.” You take a shuddering breath and look down at your feet. “At the time all I was thinking about was you. How he, HYDRA, took you from me. How maybe I could’ve protected you, even if I know it’s impossible. I just … I grabbed it. I knew that whatever strange power that thing held, he wanted it, and that I’d rather die than let him have it.”

“What happened?” He asks.

“I absorbed some of it. Not a lot, but enough that I passed out. I don’t remember anything after that; not until I woke up. I don’t know if it did anything, I haven’t gained any type of power or enhancement I didn’t already have. The only thing I can do that I couldn’t is I can sense it. I can sense if whatever’s in that cube is okay or not.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry, and I knew you would.”

“Just please, promise me you won’t do something stupid like that again.”

You look up at him, Bucky’s own tear stained face staring at yours. “I can’t. I can’t promise you that, because whatever’s coming, it’s bad.”

~

You’ve done all you can do, preparation wise with Bucky and the Wakandan team, but that pit in your stomach has only grown. Even now, sitting and watching as Bucky sorts through farm supplies you feel it. Your heart drops as you see T’Challa and some his Kings-guard walk towards him.

You make it next to him just as a high-tech case is placed on the cart in front of you. When someone opens the lid, you can’t say who, you want to vomit. An arm. A metal, vibranium arm, sits in the case.

“Where’s the fight?” Bucky asks.

“On its way.”

“It has something to do with what I’ve been feeling, doesn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so.” T’Challa replies.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know, all I know is that his name is Thanos.”

~

You and Bucky stay hidden inside as what you’ve dubbed the welcoming committee, greets everyone. “You ready?” You ask.

“Not even a bit.”

“So how big of an assault can we expect?” T’Challa asks the man you recognize as Dr. Banner.

“Uh, sir, I think you can expect quite a big assault.”

“How we looking?” Natasha asks.

“You will have my Kings-guard, the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and …” Bucky steps out before you can, smiling.

“A semi-stable one-hundred-year-old man.”

“And his wife.” You add while watching the two men hug.

“How you been, Buck?”

“Uh, not bad, for the end of the world.”

“How you been Lady Legs?” Sam asks using the dreaded nickname you had hoped died with the Commandos, but thanks to Stevie, it didn’t.

“Oh, you know, hanging in there, birdman.”

“Barnes got you in on that did he?”

“I needed something after you found out about my old nickname.” You joke. “Plus, don’t forget, I’m a Barnes too.”

“Fuck me.” He mutters.

“I’d rather not.”

“I’m gonna head in with Nat and see what’s going on with Wanda and Vision, you guys stay here.” Steve says his Captain America voice already in play. Sam, Bucky, and you all roll your eyes but begrudgingly stay.

“So, how’s life been treating the Barnes’” Sam asks.

“We’re good.”

“Okay.” Sam doesn’t say anything for a while, neither do you or Bucky, but the awkward silence is heavy. “So, um …”

“Sam, we are waiting for an imminent alien invasion and the pit in my stomach is getting bigger with every second. Please shut up.”

“Right.” Sam says. The three of you all look to the sky as something appears. “Hey, Cap, we got a situation here.”

Whatever the thing launched destroys itself when it hits the shield over the city. “God, I love this place.” Bucky says with a small smile on his face.

“Me too Bucky, me too.”

~

“Did they surrender?” Bucky asks Steve.

“Not exactly.”

You listen as the Wakandan army chants, watch in mild horror as the _things_ from the ships run at the barrier. Every second, that pit in your stomach grows larger. It’s calling you. Gun raised, you ready yourself.

“I love you James.”

“I love you Y/N”

The two of you share a look as the Outriders that managed to come through run at you. Simultaneously, you and Bucky start firing at them. You watch in horror as the ones still outside begin to circle.

“Cap,” Bruce says through comms, “if these things circle the perimeter and get behind us … there’s nothing between them and Vision.”

“Then we better keep ‘em in front of us.”

The firing of your gun and subsequent screams as more and more continue to break through block out the conversation. You don’t hear the agreement on opening the barrier, nor are you prepared for what it brings. You lose sight of Bucky not long after, staring only at mangled limbs and broken bodies of the Outrider you managed to kill.

Even your specialized guns don’t do much good against the things you’re firing at, you’re not quite skilled enough to hit a moving target perfectly every time. But at this point, surrounded by them and out of luck, you’d take just killing one. Distantly you hear it, the sound of Banner screaming. You can’t make out his words, but he sounds happy.

“BRING ME THANOS!” _Ah, so that’s the God of Thunder I never met._

You manage to make your way across the field through sheer luck and Thor’s timely arrival just in time to see Steve panting.

“New haircut?” He asks Thor.

“Notice you’ve copied my beard.” He replies.

Impressed by their ability to ignore the fighting around them, even as you are screaming and firing at random, you watch as a walking tree skewers three of the Outriders with his arm.

“By the way, this is a friend of mine. Tree.”

“I and Groot!” _And it talks._

“I am Steve Rogers.”

“Can you gentlemen please get your heads out of your asses and help!” You yell.

Thor stares at you in amazement and slight curiosity. “I like her.”

“You can like me later when we’re all not dead!”

The ground rumbles and shakes. Wide-eyed you look and follow it, the buckling ground and machines coming out of it shocks you like nothing ever has before. “Oh shit.” You run, faster than you thought you could in the opposite direction. You manage to jump out of its path just as it shreds the Outriders in your path.

“Thor!”

“M’lady?”

“I need you to hit me with everything you’ve got.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I can’t explain it, but I can take it. Something is happening to me and I think it needs a little jump start. Hit me with everything you’ve got God of Thunder.”

“My power could kill you.”

“It won’t.” He nods, reluctantly. Eyes glowing, he concentrates his power and shoots.

It burns, more than you could imagine, but something else is welling up too, soaking it in. Every cell in your body feels like it’s on fire, but then it just stops. You explode. Every ounce of untouched power given to you all those years ago pours out of you in waves.

“What just happened?” Thor ask as he runs up to you.

“You gave me a jump-start.” You look up and see fallen Outriders surrounding you.

Your eyes catch a glint of familiar metal across the field, surrounded by the bloodthirsty things everywhere. You’re not exactly sure how, but the next thing you know, you’re there, in front of Bucky and power pulsing through you and out into them.

“When did that happen?” He asks, looking to all the dead creatures around you.

“Just now.”

“How?”

“Thor gave me a jump-start.”

~

You run towards the large purple alien with everyone else, watching from your side eye in horror as Wanda shoots her red tendrils of power at Visions head. Everyone, including you starts firing at him. With a flick of his wrist, you and Bucky both go flying. Your newfound power shields you from some of the fall, but not enough. Spots of black come into view as sounds fade.

The blast of pure energy is what wakes you. Bucky is still face down in the dirt, dead to the world but breathing. You catch a glimpse of his back as he walks toward Wanda, yet Vision is nowhere to be seen. His hand reaches down, and you watch as he touches her head. Your own are fumbling around on the ground as quiet as possible for a gun.

“No!” Wanda screams.

Just as your hands wrap around the handle of one you see him, Vision, with Thanos’s hand around his neck. You snarl, low enough that only can hear, and get up on shaking legs. A few steps and you’re directly behind him as his hand raises. With blood dripping down into your eyes you raise your gun, and fire.

Purplish blood seeps from his neck as he falls to his knees. You pick up the fallen staff beside you and march with unsteady legs to him. Swinging your arms high, you slice his forearm holding the dreaded gauntlet off. Grabbing his large chin with your hand you look him in the eye.

“No one gets to hurt my husband. Not again.” Blood spills from his mouth as he goes limp. You let him drop unceremoniously to the ground in a heap.

“What did you do?” Thor asks, landing behind you as Wanda stares at you while clutching Vision.

“I killed him.”

“What happened?” Steve asks, frantic as he hobbles over to us.

“He’s dead.”

“How?” Steve asks, staring at the body.

“He was distracted by his goal.” You turn to him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to go check on Bucky.”

He’s where you left him, groaning as he tries to get up. “W-what happened?”

“We won.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m just fine.

~

Neither one of you knew what to do afterwards. The following days after Thanos more a blur of time than individual days. Still, you and Bucky sat for most of it in companionable silence, something that has always befitted you and him well. And as much as you longed for more, you also knew that now wasn’t the time for any of it.

You could tell he was still mad about the stunt you pulled during the battle. Most of you didn’t care, however, there was a part that was curious. “Why did you do it?” Bucky asks.

“Do what?”

“Save me.”

Of all the things you expected to come out of his mouth, that wasn’t one of them. You expected him to ask why you had Thor ‘jump-start’ you, why you killed Thanos on your own, anything but that. “Bucky?”

“Why did you save me?” He asks again, tears coating the corner of his eyes.

“Because I love you. Because you’re my husband and I love you.”

“I didn’t deserve it.”

“Of course, you did! You do!” you yell, heart breaking. “Your past doesn’t write your future James.”

“It should!” he screams. “It should. I was a monster.”

“What happened?” His sudden relapse sets something off in you, warning bells.

“Nothing.”

“Bucky, what happened that caused this? You were doing better.”

“The battle, it brought so much back. So many memories, nightmares.”

“Come here,” you gesture over to yourself, arms open and waiting. Slowly, follows the silent and almost asking command.

As soon as he’s in your arm, he crumbles. For the first time in days, you know he feels truly safe. It never occurred to you that at this stage something like that could set him back weeks in recovery; it should’ve. As strong as he is, he was broken for so long.

“Why do you still love me?”

“Because I fell in love with you before you were the Winter Soldier,” you reply. “I fell in love with James Barnes of the one-o-seventh, I fell in love with Bucky Barnes, the Howlie. And after I woke up with Steve, I still loved you. I wasn’t the same person you fell in love with back then. The person I was after coming out of the ice, after adapting to a different world wasn’t the same Y/N Y/L/N that you married. And when I found out about you still being alive, I knew. I knew that you wouldn’t be the same man I married all those years ago,” you sigh, running you fingers through his hair, calming his cries.

“I fell in love with you all over again as the new James, as the new Bucky. I fell in love with you all over again even after everything you did and everything you endured because you still had the same heart.”

“How? How can you still love me after all that?”

“James, look at me.” You gently guide his head up to look you in the eyes, hands cradling the sides of his face. “Those kills were made by your hands, not by your heart, not by your mind. The man that is standing here, right now, he didn’t kill those people.”

“But I did.”

“No, you didn’t. They used you as a vessel for destruction, nothing more. You were a shell of a person and they took advantage of that, exploited it. The only reason you can remember doing it is because you were watching it, through your own eyes as your body did things you had no power to refuse.”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, more tears falling.

“Don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry for,” you say. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when you needed me the most.” Your own tears start to fall, matching his.

“I love you.”

“James?”

“What?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

~

You handed the keys over to Rose, a solemn smile on your face. Tears lined her eyes as she took them. “The shop’s yours.”

“I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’ll be back, I just, you’re running the place now anyway.”

“Can I still come visit every once and a while?”

“Yes. The goats will miss you if you don’t.”

“Only the goats?”

“Hell no,” you say, looking at her through watery eyes. “I’ll miss you every day. It’s just, I need this. I need to know that everything is safe, out of my hands for a while.”

“I’m honored you trust me to be that person Y/N.”

“I’d trust you with my life Rose.”

“And I’d trust you with mine.”

~

Slowly, very slowly, you saw Bucky start to come out of his shell again. The smiles went from once every few days to once a day, and over the course of months, reassuring done on everyone’s parts, they became almost all the time. He started to cuddle with you at night with less rigidity in his muscles, he’d peck you on the cheek in passing, kiss you on the lips when moved your head in time.

It was dark now, the light of the sky all but gone and replaced by the dull shining of the stars, far clearer than back in New York. “Feed the goats one more time while I shower and then we can catch up on some movies okay?”

“Alright,” he says, smiling a bit as you walk into the small bathroom, the door only cracked.

Just as you turn on the water you hear the door bang shut, the signal that Bucky is outside. The one thing you don’t miss in the waiting for water to get hot. Fortunately for you, and Bucky, the Wakandan’s thought he might have adverse reactions to cold water hitting him unexpectedly and installed state-of-the-art water heating elements.

You even have to admit, you don’t even miss your soap. The ones they gave Bucky don’t only smell nice – subtle but no less pleasing to the nose – they do wonders on dry skin. As you’ve found the hard way, the hot sun is a major player in your suddenly drier skin. Even so, the hot water hitting your back hasn’t changed. The pleasant feeling of that hasn’t altered no matter where you shower.

As you lather yourself up, you try and think of movies he hasn’t seen, of movies you haven’t seen yet. Something tells you to watch an old classic though, it feels right tonight. No matter what you said in the conversation a few days ago, you miss the people you and Bucky were seventy years ago.

The quiet knock on the door startles you. “Doll? You forgot a towel, can I put it on the counter?”

“Oh,” you reply, heart rate slowing, “sure.” You don’t hear him through the spray of the shower, not that you expected to anyway.

“Um, Y/N?”

“Yeah Bucky?”

“Would you mind, I really have to …”

“You have to pee, don’t you?” You’re sure he can hear you sigh and if it was possible, he’d hear you roll your eyes as well.

“Maybe.”

“I won’t look.” It’s hard to resist the temptation though, you haven’t seen your husband naked in over seventy years, and it feels long overdue.

It seems the brilliant Wakandan’s missed one crucial element; the prospect of a flushing toilet while the shower is running. Seconds after Bucky starts zipping your pants you’re screeching and jumping, pulling the shower curtain down as you scramble to get away from the now boiling water.

“FUCK!” The word seems to restart Bucky after his momentary shock and confusion, not soon enough to catch you fully though.

Completely wet and naked, you topple the two of you over onto the tile ground, Bucky grunting as he hits the floor. His arm come around your waist through pure instinct, holding you closer than he has in a long while. Your thigh slips between his; you can feel the halfway zipped pants and what’s beneath them fairly clearly.

“You okay?” Bucky asks. 

“Yeah,” you reply, “sorry. I didn’t think the toilet would cause the shower to turn that hot.”

“Sorry.”

“’S not your fault. You didn’t know either.”

He seems to realize that your naked only seconds after he looks you in the eye. “I’m sorry!” Promptly closing his eyes, he goes to move his arms, but you shift, hands going to his shoulders and squeezing.

“Bucky, you’ve seen me naked countless times.”

“Not in this century though,” he says. “Besides, those times were different. You wanted me to see you then.”

“That’s true. Still, I don’t mind,” you reply. “Although, I would like to finish my shower, so I need you to let me up.”

“Oh, right.” He closes his eyes again and carefully lets his arms move to the side as you get up. As he gets up, his shoulder hits the vanity, his knee the toilet and hand on the towel bar, all of which you can’t help but laugh a little at. “What about the curtain?”

“I can take a shower without one,” you say, noting his still closed eyes. “Bucky?”

“Huh?”

“Zip your pants.”

“Shit!”

With careful movements you walk over to him as he frantically tries to feel around for his zipper, which he can’t seem to find in his state. Leaning up you place a small kiss on his cheek as he finally zips the fly. “Go pick a movie love.”

“Anything you have in mind?”

“Something old.”

~

You’re getting out of the bath, towel wrapped around you and opening the door when you see Bucky on the other side, hand raised to knock. “Bucky? What did you need?”

“I-I nothing. You’d just been in there a while and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You stare at him, his nervous smile, shirt sticky from where he’d been working until moments ago, and it hits you. “I want to have sex.”

He chokes, quite literally. It’s only then that you realize you said the thought out loud. “What?”

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” you mutter.

“You want to have sex?”

“Yes?”

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay? That’s it?”

“Well I don’t know what else to say. Sex has probably changed since the last time I had it,” he mumbles.

“Not that much! It still goes in the same places, mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“People are far more open to trying different things now.”

“How is it … different?” Bucky asks.

“You’re the one that said it changed not me!”

“Yeah but you answered!”

“There’s a lot more mouth now,” you reply, a little tentative to tell him other things. You still remember him crying the first time you asked him to have sex; of course, you cried too.

“If I’m remembering right, we did that just fine.”

“We did, yes. Um,” you start, “it goes in the other hole too.” He looks at you puzzled, and you mentally slap yourself for bringing this up.

“Other hole?”

“Yes.” He still stares at you, not comprehending where you’re going. “You’re ass Bucky. People do it in the ass now.”

His eyes go wide. “Even if it’s not gay men?” You nod. “Wait, how did you find this out?”

“I may have baptized myself by fire on the internet with new sex things.”

“Meaning?”

“I made the mistake of delving into the depths of porn way too early and unprepared.”

“Should I …”

“NO! Don’t do that, I’ll help in your sexual reeducation slowly.”

~

It’s days later, lying in bed trying to sleep that Bucky finally tries to get your attention. “Y/N?”

“What?”

“Can we try having sex?”

“Bucky it’s,” you look to the clock on the side of the bed, “three in the morning. I was almost asleep.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“No, no. It’s okay, we can,” you let out a series of yawns, barely awake enough to hold your eyes open. “Can we try in the morning?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, g’night Bucky.”

“Goodnight Y/N”

You wake up to an insistent poking in your side. Swinging your hand over and hitting the thing keeping you from a dream you hear a quiet grunt.

“Ow.”

“Bucky?”

“It’s morning,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“You said we could try and have sex in the morning.”

You laugh, genuinely laugh at his stupid smile and eagerness. “I haven’t had coffee, or brushed my teeth, or-”

Bucky leans, capturing your lips with his, cutting you off. It’s the first kiss he’s initiated on the lips in weeks. Despite your still half-awake state, you kiss back with as much passion as he is. It’s nice. His hands move to your waist, pulling you on top of him, the cold of his metal arm causing you to stiffen.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, arms just colder than I expected.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, continue.” The two of you move at the same time, foreheads butting against one another in an attempt to continue kissing.

“Okay, that one is all me,” you joke.

“Damn right.”

A final puff of air out your nose in a mock laugh and he kisses you again. Lips working over yours slowly and almost reverently. It’s as if the passion from earlier has escaped him and he wants nothing more than to take his time. Fine by you, anything you can get out of him at this point is good. You just want to touch him.

His tongue slips in your mouth, playing with yours like it was meant to, like it never forgot how. He moves his hands down to your hips, gently pushing you down onto him. As if on instinct you grind down a bit, a primal groan escapes from Bucky’s lips.

“Fuck.”

“We’re not there yet mister.”

“No, we’re not,” he mutters, kissing you harshly, hands moving from your now moving hips to your hair.

Fingers tangle in it, scraping and rubbing your scalp in that delicious way you always liked. When he goes to slip his hand back to your neck, your head moves with it, a sharp tug on the roots not letting him budge.

“Bucky, I think your hand is stuck. I thought it never got stuck in hair?”

“It isn’t supposed to, but I guess that only goes for brushed hair,” he says. “Can’t we just continue and worry about it later?”

“No! One wrong move and half my hair is going to be gone. I don’t want to be bald James!”

“Fine. I guess we’ll try and get it out.”

“No try about it. We are getting your hand unstuck from my head.”

An hour. It took an hour and now the two of you are standing in Shuri’s lab, trying to explain to her the predicament. “It got caught in your hair?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Um … well,” you start, not really wanting to finish.

“You were trying to have sex, weren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

She rolls her eyes. “God you two are stupid,” she turns to Bucky. “Barnes didn’t you read the pamphlet I gave you on this arm?”

“No. It’s an arm. I know how to use it.”

“If you’d read it,” she states pointedly, “you would’ve known that there is a small compartment on your forearm that opens, and you can change settings.”

“Where?”

“Here,” she says, moving her fingers and pressing down on a space right beneath the crook of his elbow.

“What do they all do?” Bucky asks.

“Well one of them closes the gaps in the arm. It restricts it movement slightly which is why isn’t default, but I’m going to let you figure out the others on your own.”

“You mean to tell me his arm has a setting, so he won’t get it caught in hair during sex?”

“Yes!” Shuri yells. “That man is a snack! I was not going to give him an arm that allowed him to get it caught when he’s banging someone!”

~

The two of you spend hours playing and figuring out the buttons, most of which were fairly simple. Although, you have to admit, the detach function was the funniest. Neither you nor Bucky were prepared for it to just _fall_ off. It took a while to figure out how to reattach it too. The fun came to an end when you heard the goats start to scream, apparently wanting their supper.

“Go feed the goats while I work on feeding us.”

“If you insist,” Bucky whines, already putting his shoes back on.

“I do.” As much as you wanted to hurry and change into something sexy to surprise him while you were cooking, you didn’t have anything. One of the last things on your mind lately has been making sure to buy sexy clothes.

Now though, your stomach wants grilled cheese and tomato soup. It’s been awhile since you fixed Bucky grilled cheese, almost long enough that you’ve forgotten what he likes, almost. But with the chill in the air tonight, it seems like a good fit.

“Goats are fed.”

“Good,” you reply, already taking out the various ingredients. “Would you mind starting the soup for me?”

“What kind?”

“Tomato.”

“You fixin’ grilled cheese?”

“’Course.”

The two you don’t speak as you butter the bread and take out far too many slices of cheese than are necessary. No, you don’t speak until the dance you and Bucky have perfected in the small kitchen over weeks is over and you’re sitting at the small table, spoons already full.

“I want to visit New York.” You drop you spoon back into soup with a clang as the words leave his mouth, your own hanging open slightly.

“Okay.”

“I’m not sure if I’m ready to move there, but I want to visit.”

“Are you sure?”

“I think it’s been long enough.”

“Bucky, just because you _think_ enough time as passed doesn’t necessarily mean it has.”

“I haven’t been back in years; I need to go back. Get it over with. The last time I was there, I was still broken.”

“I can see if we can stay with Rose, is that okay?”

“Yeah. I like Rose.”

“She’s a good friend.”

“I’m sorry I took you away from her,” he mumbles.

“You didn’t. I left because I wanted to,” you put down your sandwich, looking at him hard. “James, look at me. When have I ever been known to do something, I don’t want to?”

“Never.”

“Exactly. I wouldn’t have moved here permanently with you if I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay with you, wherever you might be.”

“What about your old apartment?”

“I’m currently renting it out nightly, like an Air B n’ B.”

“Oh,” he swallows loudly. “Do you think we could stay there instead?”

“Of course. I’ll see when it’s not booked and we can stay then, okay?”

“Yeah.”

~

The entire ride over Bucky was a tension filled mess. Everything about him screamed unease but he refused to let you help. The only thing he let you do was hold his hand as you walked and rode in the taxi. As soon as you opened the door to your apartment though, he eased up, as if all the tension was pouring out of him in waves.

“You okay Bucky?”

“Yeah. It’s just, a lot.”

“I know, far more people than you’re used to.”

“It’s just, I haven’t left Wakanda in years. It feels weird to be somewhere else.”

“Bucky, you don’t have to explain it to me. Just make yourself comfortable, I’m going to be in the shower.”

“Do you want my stuff in your room?” Bucky asks.

“Of course,” you say, “where else would it go?”

“A guest room?”

“James we’ve been sharing a room, a bed, an everything for months now. Just because we’re no longer in your house doesn’t mean that needs to change. Besides,” you smirk, “I don’t have a guestroom.”

“Oh.”

“Now, I’m goin’ to shower.”

He follows you down the hall, the bedroom opposite the bathroom, almost sullen. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he didn’t want to be here. Even so, the fact that he isn’t comfortable enough to relax in your home yet hurts a bit. You didn’t expect it, you’d hoped, but hadn’t expected him to be the person he is in Wakanda here.

You wait for the water to warm up as you strip off your clothes, smelly from the trip over and the taxi seats that you know haven’t been cleaned in far too long. You’re barely under the water before there’s a knock on the door.

“Hey Y/N? Mind if I come in?”

“You have to use the bathroom?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

“Come on in.” You feel rather than hear the door open, the slight burst of colder air all the warning you get before you heard Bucky start to undo his pants.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

You pause, unsure how you want to say it, to ask it. “Will you – will you join me?”

“Doll?”

“Will you join me, in the shower?” You’re sure he’ll refuse, already preparing yourself to hear his words.

“Okay.” The sound of jeans hitting the ground startles you, although the slow opening of the curtain moments later and his hesitant face warms your heart.

“Bucky,” you start, “why do you still have your boxers on?”

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I asked you to join me in the shower, I was expecting you to be naked. Take off your boxers.”

Tentatively, he peels off his undershorts, damp from the overspray of the showerhead, and throws them onto the floor. “I don’t know what to do,” he admits.

“Let me wash your hair.” Grabbing the bottle form the shower-caddy you squirt a blob onto your hand, lathering it up before reaching up and massaging it into his scalp.

With careful fingers you rub and soap up his head; with every touch you watch you him relax bit by bit. It isn’t until his shoulders are slumped forward that you stop. “Turn around for me.”

He does it without question, the trust he gives you almost making your heart burst. The water falls over his head, rinsing the soap and sending him further into the realms of relaxation. You run your fingers through his hair, helping the residual soap wash away. Taking the loofa, you begin to rub lightly scented soap over his back.

“Y/N?” Bucky half moans and half asks.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

Bucky turns, arms snaking around your waist and pulls you close. You don’t have time to really register that you’re both naked and wet before he’s kissing you like he needs it to live. It’s desperate, loving, filled with as much emotion as one can put into a kiss. Your hands mindlessly make their way up to his shoulders, squeezing before trailing up to the ends of his hair.

You don’t realize that you’ve walked backwards until your back hits the cold tile wall, Bucky slotting his hips between yours. It’s delicious. “Bucky,” you gasp as he hesitantly grinds his hips. “Bed.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You hurriedly turn off the water and lead him to the bedroom across the hall, careful not to slip on the hardwood. Neither of you bother to shut the door behind you as you fall back onto the mattress, Bucky climbing to hover over you. He kisses you again, just as deeply before and you can’t help but moan into his mouth.

Raising your hips up to meet his, you push yourself closer to him, letting him feel you again, letting yourself feel him again. You knew by now he could feel how wet you were; how much you want him. The not so subtle grind of his hips against yours and you can feel him hardening. You missed it.

“James,” you breathe shakily.

“I want you so bad,” he moans into your neck.

“Have me.”

His flesh hand trails down your stomach, reaching the apex of your thighs in a tortuously slow pace. Bucky kisses down your neck, nibbling and licking here and there, always just missing the sweet spot you know he hasn’t forgotten about. Fingers bump your clit ever so slightly, not nearly enough and yet too much at the same time. A gentle press and swirl of his fingertip and you arch off the bed.

It’s been too long since you felt a man’s hands below your waist; too long since you’ve had sex for you to savor it like you want to. “Bucky,” you growl, “fuck me.”

“I gotta get you wet sugar,” he mumbles, lips closing around your nipple before he sucks lightly, nipping at it before pulling away with a pop.

“I’m plenty wet enough James,” you hiss, a finger entering you just as you finish off your words. “I need you.”

“But I’m having so much fun.”

“You cheeky bastard.” Your words don’t hold nearly the strength you want them to.

“Only for you.”

“Damn right.”

He doesn’t need more prompting. Lining up his shaft with your entrance he slowly sinks into you. The stretch is both agonizing and delicious. You want nothing more than for him to just pound into you mercilessly but with every miniscule shift, you feel yourself start to get lost in him.

It seems like hours before he bottoms out, his pubic bone rubbing against your clit, the friction wonderful. He doesn’t move, even you when clench around him, hoping to spur him on. “James,” you gasp, “fucking move.”

He does. Practiced and notice hips slam into yours with vigor. Every sound of skin against skin sends a jolt straight to your core. “Fuck! Y/N,” he moans.

Your own moan is all he gets before you pull him down to you, lips crashing into his with intense passion. Every cell in your body is lit up, fire is coursing through your veins and all you want is to shower Bucky in every ounce of it.

Maybe it’s the fact that you haven’t had a proper orgasm since before he fell, it could be all the pent -up feelings that needed release since nineteen-forty-five, or a combination of both. All you know is that with another thrust of his hips, he has you coming harder than you remember ever coming.

“I love you,” you moan, spasming around him. The tight clenching causing his own release to crash over him in waves.

“I love you too.”

_2019_

You look around the table, all the faces of people you love sitting around it; Steve, Nat, Sam, Rose, Tony, everyone. You hadn’t planned on cooking for everyone, not in your tiny apartment but you did, and not a scrap of it was left.

“To what do we owe the occasion?” Steve asks.

You turn to Bucky, an unspoken question in your eyes to which a small smile is your answer. “Bucky and I will be staying here permanently.”

“What about the goats?” Sam asks, completely ignoring the cheers from everyone else.

“Well, I talked to my landlord and since we had all three of them certified as therapy animals along with trained, he said we could keep them here.”

“You’re really staying in New York?” Rose asks next, tears in her eyes.

“Yes, we are.”

“I suppose you want your old job back then,” she teases.

“No, the shop is still yours, although I wouldn’t mind if you hired me back.”

“I can do that.”

Steve looks to you and his old friend, eyes wet and face holding every emotion you can think of. “You’re really staying Buck?”

“Yeah, I’m really staying.”

~

You’re loading the dishwasher when you hear footsteps behind you. Even through the years you still know they’re Steve’s. “Wanna help?”

“Sure, start rinsing.”

Silently he does as you tell him, both of you listening to the sound of Bucky laughing in the living room with everyone else. “Thank you for helping him get back to himself.”

“I didn’t do anything Steve. I just let him navigate the world on his own, I only held his hand while he did.”

“You did more than that and you know it.”

You look up to him, tears staining your own eyes. “Well, thank you for bringing him back to me.”

“I’d do it again any day.”

You nod, wiping the wetness from your cheeks. “Grab the champagne for me, will you?”

“Top shelf?”

“Always.”

Steve follows you back into the living room, bottle in hand while you hold a tray of empty glasses. Silently you pour everyone a glass, Bucky eyeing you the entire time. You know he notices the slight redness to your eyes, and you hate it. Placing your hand on his shoulder you lean down, kissing his forehead, letting him know they’re happy tears.

“I propose a toast,” you say formally, everyone cracking a smile. “A toast to new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings,” everyone cheers.

You look over to Bucky, eyes locking with his for the briefest of moments and you know. You know that no matter what you will always have him, he will always be there. Because if anyone can keep up with you it’s him, him and his wonderful heart. A heart than you will love until the end of time, one that belongs to a man that would follow you to infinity.


End file.
